


Vampire Shift

by KannaRaimi



Category: D.Gray-man
Genre: Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, M/M, Vampires
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-28
Updated: 2017-09-09
Packaged: 2018-05-23 20:52:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 14
Words: 37,049
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6129729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KannaRaimi/pseuds/KannaRaimi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>My take on The Kiera Series. </p>
<p>Allen Walker is a police constable with an amazing gift, nothing can hide from his all seeing eyes. Will the sleepy town of Noah's Innocence be too much for him to handle?<br/>Sometimes it's better to be blind and hidden; too bad for Allen, he's caught the attention of dangerous creatures. </p>
<p>(Yullen) Disclaimer: I don't own D.Grayman or The Kiera Series. Comments wanted!!!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Shift

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally posted to fanfiction.net, but recently I have become aware of the quality difference between the two sites and want to try this site out.
> 
> Forgive if this is awkward and formatted weird. I'm new and this was done on my mobile.

My name is Allen Walker.

I'm 21 years old and under the employment of the Vatican Police Department as a police constable.

I have been an official police officer for all of 18 months. On completion of my initial training I was posted in a small town called Noah's Innocence.

I had heard rumors that the post was a difficult one to fill, but I would take any excuse to get away from my instructor at headquarters. Plus they did make me an attractive offer, free accommodation and the allowance of £50,000 a year.

When I told my fellow recruits that I had accepted the offer, some laughed nervously, stating that the force paid the wage annually as no one had stayed long enough to collect it.

My shift pattern was scheduled as a constant series of night shifts that started every night at 7 and ended at 7 the following morning. Looking back now, I can understand the raised eyebrows of my classmates, but at the time I didn't want to refuse the post.

I thought if I did, I would be viewed as inflexible buy my superiors and I had aspirations way beyond the rank of constable.

Like me, most other recruits were young, and knowing that the town Noah's Innocence was pretty remote, I suspected they were more concerned about their social lives than their future careers.

After packing a suitcase, which consisted mainly of my smart new uniform and a deck of cards, I set off in my old burgundy VWVortex and headed from the dorm to the desolate town of Noah's Innocence.

I remember the day clearly as I made my way by a series of deserted country lanes headed towards the town. A few miles out, the sky clouded over and it started to rain.

The day almost seemed to turn to night, as the rain lashed out against my windshield faster than my wipers could keep up.

With my headlights on full blasts, I carefully navigated my way to the town. Several times I had to pull over, off the narrow roads, and park up by the entrance to some field to check the map I'd been given by Master Cross at the training academy.

I knew the town was remote, but it wasn't until I had tried to reach it that I noticed how isolated from the rest of the world it really was.

It seemed to me that Noah's Innocence didn't want to be found. Realizing I was just spooking myself, I shook off any regrets I might be having, and carried on through the rain and gloom.

In an attempt to lighten my spirits, I turned on my car radio, hoping to find something I could sing along to. I settled for Trumpets by Jason Derulo.

The road seemed to get narrower as I headed towards the town, which spread out in front of me like a horseshoe.

Wiping the mist from my windshield with the back of my hand, I could see the sea and it looked black and angry as it crashed along the cliffs.

As I near the town the radio began to hiss and spit with static until I lost the signal completely. I made the rest of my journey nervously humming under my breath.

I reach the town just before 5, but the sky was so dark that it seemed much later. Driving my car through the ragged streets, I peered up at the tired-looking buildings that lined each side of the road.

There were a row of shops that had been shut down for the day, and the streets were deserted; I wondered how they stayed in business. Master Cross had said the room had been rented for me in an inn called "Noah's Ark", but I couldn't find it.

Over and over again, I drove up and down the same streets, the wind and and the rain hammering down on my poor car.

Then, just ahead, I saw a lone figure shuffling along the pavement ahead of me. I slowed my car, bringing it to a halt. The engine rattled and rain bounced off its burgundy hood.

Winding the window down, I rolled down the window and called out to the figure that walked stopped forward, a black hood pulled over its head.

"Excuse me ", I called out my breath creating tiny clouds in the cold.

The hunched figure stopped dead in its tracks, still not facing me.

I tried again, "Hello?"

Slowly, the figure turned on the spot, the hem of the long coat and scarf it wore trailing in the deep puddles that filled the cracked pavement.

One gleaming green eye stared at me from beneath the hood, as the figure adjusted it’s ridiculously long orange scarf. I shrank back in surprise at the sharp frown peering out of the shadows beneath the hood.

It was difficult for me to guess the man’s age, as his face was well hidden in the shadows of the overly large hood.

The corners of his thin chapped lips were twisted in what looked like a hateful snarl. But even though his face was thoroughly hidden, his eye was sharp and keen, shining a brilliant emerald from beneath his hood. He continued to glare at me and say nothing.

"I’m looking for a place called Noah’s Ark," I said, inching the window closed so only the smallest of gaps was left for me to speak through.

Still glaring at me from beneath his hood, the stranger raised one calloused finger and placed it against his cracked lips. “Shhh!" he almost seemed to hiss. Then, lowering his head, he turned away and continued to shuffle forwards along the street, rain dripping from his scarf.

I closed the window and from the safety of my car, I sat and watched the stranger until he had disappeared into the gloom ahead.

Once I was sure he had gone, I started my car again and crept forward. I reached the end of the street, slowed and looked left and right. I couldn’t see him in either direction. It was like he had vanished.

Indicating right, I turned into yet another narrow, cobbled street, where the houses and shops stood crammed next to one another.

It was then, I noticed that same hooded figure watching me from the darkness of a nearby shop doorway. Looking forward, with goose bumps crawling over my skin, I sped up.

It was just before 6 when I noticed a small side street that I hadn't seen before.

Turning into it, my car bounced and lurched over the cobbled road until in the distance, I could just make out the glow of a blue lamp attached to the front of a white-washed building.

Any anxiety I had felt earlier disappeared upon seeing it. I knew I’d found the police station where I had been posted to.

They would be able to point me in the right direction of my lodgings, and it would give me a chance to meet with some of my colleagues before I started my first night shift the following evening.

Parking the car just outside, I pulled my jacket tight about my shoulders and ran towards the old, wooden door below the blue lamp.

Pushing against it, I stumbled into the station and out of the howling wind and driving rain.

I must have looked a right sight, my white hair matted in gray, wet streaks to my forehead and cheeks, my face pale with the cold. Topped with my unusual face tattoo, I’m sure I made quite the impression.

“Can I help you?" someone asked me.

Looking up, I could see a large front desk, covered in paper. Sitting behind it was a police officer. He had short, black hair, glasses falling off his face, and was clean-shaven.

He looked vaguely chinese and was about 35 to 40 years-old. He was dressed loosely in his uniform and was glutting down a huge cup of coffee.

“Can I help you?” he asked again.

Straightening my hair and pulling it from my face, I gave my most charming smile and said, “I’m Allen.”

He looked back at me as if he didn't have the slightest idea as to what I was talking about. Holding out my gloved hand for him to shake, I stepped towards the front counter and said, “I’m Allen Walker. The new recruit?”

Again he looked at me as if I were speaking in a foreign language. Lowering my hand, I added with narrowed eyes, “Vatican headquarters sent me. I’m to be stationed here, starting tomorrow night.”

Then with a sudden look of recognition on his face, he stood up and came towards me. It was then I noticed he wasn’t in full uniform at all, but was wearing a pair of jeans and pink slippers. He appeared to sway as he walked, as if he had no balance.

“Walker,” he said, thumbing through some paperwork on the other side of the desk. “Walker. Allen. Here we go,” he said, plucking my file from beneath a mountain of paperwork. Then, looking back at me, he said, “You know you’re getting old when the new recruits look younger than your darling baby sister.”

Then his whole demeanor changed and he slammed down the giant coffee mug. He turned with such loathing in his eyes and said, “Don’t you even think about laying a head on my precious, adorable, oh so lovely baby sister! You hear me, you nasty octopus?!”

Shocked by his sudden hostility, I backed away slowly. “I don’t know her and even if I did, I don’t swing that way.” He immediately calmed down, and smiled. Tilting his head to the left, he says, “Welcome to the team.” Not seeing any noticeable hostility, I sighed in relief.

Noticing the three stripes on his shoulders, I asked, “Are you in charge here?” all the while hoping he wasn’t.

Placing my file to one side, he smiled back at me and said, “Kind of, but not really. I’m Sergeant Lee – ‘Komui’ to my friends,” and thrust out his hand.

Taking it, he pumped my arm up and down until I thought it might just fall off.

“We do have Chief Inspector Leverrier, but we don’t see him much. He pops his head in from time to time and that’s the way we like it. Don’t want the boss nosing around,” he said, winking at me as he sipped on his coffee.

Pushing the fringe from my eyes, I noticed Sergeant Lee was wearing a small pin in the shape of a crucifix.

I thought this was a little odd as we’d had it instilled in us at training school that we were only to wear police insignia on our uniforms, nothing else, especially not anything that was religious or might cause offense.

Sergeant Lee saw me looking, and his fingers went straight to it. “I know what you’re thinking,” he said. “You’re straight from the academy, where you’ve had your head crammed full of all the things you should and shouldn’t do.”

“No,” I said, shaking my head, not wanting to offend my new sergeant within the first few moments of meeting him.

“Well, just between you and me, young lad,” he said leaning over the counter towards me, his voice dropping to a whisper.

“This little cross here will offer you more protection than any can of pepper spray, a baton, or a taser . Things are different in Noah’s Innocence.”

“ Don’t listen to the stupid old man,” someone said from behind me. Spinning round, I saw another police officer step into the station out of the rain.

His raincoat dripped water all over the floor, and it ran from the brim of his helmet. Taking it from his head, he wrung the rain out of his long navy hair. Unlike Sergeant Lee, this police officer was younger, no older than 27.

“I’m sorry?” I asked, taken aback by his sudden presence. He had navy blue eyes, a strong pointed chin, and a surprisingly oriental look about him.

“ I said, take no notice of the fucking idiot,’” he smirked, looking over my shoulder at Sergeant Lee.

“Kanda show some manners,” Lee said, but he didn’t sound angry, it was as if it were a routine he shared with this officer.

Taking off his black raincoat and draping it over the desk, he turned to me and said, “I’m Kanda Yuu.” Then frowning, he added, “The one who does all the damn work around here.”

“You don’t know the meaning of the word,” Sergeant Lee scoffed, going back to his seat where he propped his slippered feet up onto his desk and sipped on his coffee.

“So you must be Constable Walker?” Kanda asked.

“ Allen,” I replied, raising my gloved hand to shake his. He ignored my extended hand with a smirk.

“You’re short and pale,” Kanda said, and I couldn't help but notice that he held my gaze just a little too long, long enough to make me feel uncomfortable. Looking away, I began to take a good look around.

I was immediately struck by the lack of professionalism Sergeant Lee showed, and it felt at odds with the almost military-style of policing instilled in me at the academy. The whole town was strangely biblical, obsessed with the story of Noah in particular.

“I thought you started your shift with us tomorrow night?” Kanda said, cutting into my thoughts. “That eager, huh,” he grinned, and it seemed to light up his whole face.

“I can’t find my new digs,” I told him, slightly embarrassed.  
“Where are you staying?” he asked boredly.

“Noah’s Ark,” I said, and I couldn’t help but notice the knowing look that passed between Kanda and Sergeant Lee across the counter.

“Is there something wrong?” I asked, mildly suspicious.

Shaking his head, Sergeant Lee said, “No, there’s nothing wrong. Kanda’ll show you where it is.” Throwing on his overcoat again and grabbing his helmet,Kanda headed outside while I followed.

As I swung the police station door closed behind me, I could just see the top of Lee’s head on the other side of the counter.

“Welcome to the god-forsaken town of Noah’s Innocence, Allen Walker. Show up tomorrow night at seven for the start of your first vampire shift.” Not knowing what he meant, I let the door swing shut and I stepped out into the rain again.

“Is this piece of shit yours?” Kanda growled, looking at my old burgundy VWVortex. “Yeah, got a problem?” I snarled, feeling proud of my little wagon. “Nothing, soccer mom. It’s in nice condition” Kanda grinned, going to the passenger side.

Opening my door, I got in. Throwing his helmet into the back, Kanda wedged himself into the front seat.

His legs were so long that his knees seemed to rest just beneath his chest. Smiling to myself, I put the car into gear and we rumbled off up the street.

We sat in silence, and I felt uncomfortable. “So where is this Inn?” I asked, trying to start a conversation.

“It’s a mile or so up the road from here. Just take a right at the top,” he said boredly.

“So what’s with the crucifix and all this stuff about starting my first ‘vampire shift’ tomorrow night?” I asked above the sound of the wipers as they squeaked back and forth in the rain.

Glancing sideways at me, Kanda said, “Look dammit, some strange things have happened here in the last few years or so, that’s all.”

“What do you mean by strange ?” I asked him, adjusting to the dark.

“Well,some of the new recruits that have been sent from headquarters have gone missing, we’ve also had our fair share of grave desecrations and murders for such a small ass town,” Kanda said, glaring back into the night.

“What do you mean by missing ?” I asked, feeling more intrigued than scared.

“Duh- they don’t show up for work. One day they’re here and the next they’re fucking gone. Not even so much as a goddamn goodbye,” Kanda explained.

“But why?” I asked, slowing down to steer the car around a rather sharp bend in the road.

“How the fuck would I know, maybe they weren’t expecting so much damn paperwork,’” he shrugged.

“But you can’t have that much paperwork out here,” I said. “It can’t be that busy.”

“You’re right,” he said. “We don’t have a burglary problem, robbery problem, or even a loitering problem. But like I said, we do have a murder problem, and they create mountains of fucking paperwork.”

Speeding up again, I asked, “So how many murders are we talking about?”

“Well if you exclude the 30 or so people that have gone missing, as no one really knows what’s happened to them, we’ve had about 20 murders in the last 3 years or so.

“20?” I gasped, nearly crashing the car into a nearby hedge. “Some cities in the UK don’t even have that amount in five years – let alone a small little town like this!”

“They started slow at first,” he sighed. “The first year we had 3 murders and a couple of disappearances. In the second year we had 6 murders – but this year they’ve escalated like crazy.”

“Are they connected?” I asked, still reeling from what he had just told me.

“The M.O. is the same in each case, if that’s what you mean,” he said.

“So you have a serial killer in Noah’s Innocence?” I asked him, not being able to comprehend what he was telling me.

How my colleagues had been dumb enough to turn down a posting like this was beyond me. Some officers could wait a lifetime before they came anywhere close to even getting a whiff of a serial killer case and here I was right in the middle of one, just days out of the academy.

“I don’t think it’s a fucking serial killer,” Kanda said, narrowing his eyes at me.

“But you said the M.O. was the same in each murder,” I excitedly reminded him.

“It is the same,” he said, then added, “but there is more than one killer.”

Gripping the steering wheel so tight that my gloves rip a liitle, I asked, “How can you be so sure?”

“There are always more than one set of prints at the scene and the…” he trailed off.

“And what?” I asked, almost ready to pee in my pants.

“Forensics say the tooth marks come from different sets of teeth,” he sighed.

“Tooth marks?” I almost screeched.  
“Yeah, tooth marks,” Kanda said in a grim tone. “At first we thought that they were the tooth marks of an animal because -”

Kanda was suddenly interrupted as the airwaves radio that was attached to his coat began to talk in the sound of Sergeant Lee’s voice.

“Echo One to Echo Three, receiving?” and his voice came through, mixed with the sound of static.

Speaking into the radio, Kanda said, “Go ahead, baka – what you got?”

“I hate to be the one to tell you this,” Lee’s voice crackled back over the radio, “but Farmer Chaoji reckons his dog has just come across the remains of the Hearst kid who went missing a couple of days ago.”

Taking a deep breath, Kanda seemed to placate himself, then said into the radio, “Tch, baka, I’ll make my way there.”

Then looking at me he said, “You starting your duties a night early?”

“You bet,” I told him, my stomach beginning to buzz with nerves and excitement.

“Okay then,” Kanda smiled, “Welcome to your first vampire shift.”


	2. Horse Shit and Psychics

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "What a bunch of horse shit!" he cried. "I don't know what they've been teaching you at training school but whatever it is, you ain't in no episode of CSI." Standing, I looked pleadingly at Kanda, face red with embarrassment, wishing I hadn't said anything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Just a friendly reminder that I own neither D.Grayman nor The Kierra Series. This is just my fusion of them both. The plot changes with the introduction of new characters, so if you're a fan of the Kierra Series don't be alarmed by the new directions.

Kanda directed me along a narrow coastal road, and above the sound of the rain and the wind, I could hear those black waves crashing into the cliffs below. At one point, a gust of wind took hold of my little van, and I felt the pull of the back wheels as they headed towards the cliff edge.

Gasping, I yanked on the steering wheel and straightened the van. Kanda sat beside me and said nothing, his face pale and serious. "Stupid Moyashi can't even fucking drive!" I chose to ignore him, and focus on the road.

As we cleared the coastal road, Kanda pointed in the direction of a narrow track and I followed it. At the top, there was a gate which led into a wheat field. Killing the engine but keeping the headlights on, we climbed from the car.

Waiting at the gate for us was a burly man with a strong build. He stood up straight and had bandaged hands. With a metal hairband pulled so far back, his face appeared much rounder than it probably was.

"Evening, Constable," the man said.

"Why in the hell did you call us, Chaoji?," Kanda asked, as the two men curtly nodded at each other. Chaoji glanced over at me with a confused expression. His face was innocent and covered in bruises. Without taking his eyes off me, he said to Kanda, "Who's the girl?"

"This is Constable Walker," Kanda said. "As girly as he seems, file says he's a boy. A new recruit, fresh out of the box."

"The white hair and tattoo aren't regulation, are they?" Chaoji asked, and as he spoke I could see that he was genuinely curious, but his questions still ticked me off. "It's natural, I'm 5'9 and all other information is classified."

"Where's the body?" Kanda asked, pulling a torchlight from his utility belt and switching it on.

"Up beyond that tree line," Chaoji said, waving his stick in the general direction of a crop of trees that lined his fields. "I'm warning you though, the kid don't look pretty."

Flashing his flashlight towards the trees, Kanda said, "You wait here, Chaoji." Then looking back at me, he said, "Ready?"

Pulling the collar of my jacket around my throat, I nodded. I didn't know if I was ready or not. I hadn't seen a real dead body in a long time, only pictures of them from crime scenes shown to us at training school. Following Kanda, I made my way across the fields towards the trees.

The earth was sodden, and my boots squelched in the mud. At one point, my foot got stuck and I thought I might just lose my shoe. Yanking me free, Kanda took me by the arm and dragged me across the field.

Stepping beneath the canopy of trees, the rain seemed to ease, trapped by the leaves above. Shining his flashlight at the ground ahead of us, Kanda went deeper into the crop of trees. It was eerily quiet and I could hear the sound of my own heart thumping in my ears. Without warning, Kanda dashed ahead, shouting over his shoulder, "Over here!"

I followed, and as I did, I could just make out the shape of something lying face up in the damp undergrowth beneath the trees. From a distance it looked like a pile of rags, but as I got nearer, I could see that it was the body of a small boy. He was dressed in green shorts and an orange T-shirt which had been ripped open down the front. Kanda waved the torchlight up and down the body of the boy.

His hair was unevenly cut and his face looked white and bloated but it wasn't that which sickened me; it was the look of fear forever engraved upon his small face. I had never seen the look of such terror before, and I shivered at the thought of what his attacker must have looked like.

Bending down, Kanda got onto all fours, and for a moment, blocked my view of the boy. He seemed to be examining him. "Timothy Hearst, age 9."

"How can you be so sure?" I asked, squatting down beside him.

"Had dealings with the boy before," Kanda said. "Nothing serious, just petty thefts and being a general pain in the ass, that's all."

It was then, as I knelt beside Kanda, that I saw the injuries to Timothy Hearst's forehead, or what was left of it. A giant hole sat in the center of his forehead, ripped and torn away in jagged chunks.

Covering my mouth with my hands, I lurched to one side, desperate not to be sick on my first night and definitely not in front of Kanda. I didn't want him to think I was weak, any more than he already did.

"Are you okay?" Kanda asked, looking at me. I thought, maybe I could see a sliver of concern in his narrowed eyes.

"Sure," I said, swallowing hard to push away the bile that was burning the back of my throat.

"Leave and come back when your ready newbie…" Kanda grunted, gently touched my shoulder.

I got excited at the amount of compassion Kanda was showing, and relished his warmth on my shoulder for a moment. Quickly coming to my senses, I knocked it away and stood up. "I believe he died about three days ago," I said, trying to regain my composure and sound like a police officer instead of some emotional wreck.

"How the fuck would you know that?!" Kanda asked me. And by the tone of his voice, he didn't take kindly to fakes. I'd have to explain and fully convince him.

"See those blisters,'" I said, pointing to the yellowing bubbles on the boy's arms and legs.

"What about them?" Kanda asked.

"Notice how the body is swollen and bloated?" I asked him.

"So?" Kanda came back at me. "And that fluid which has leaked from his mouth, nose, and

ears?" "What you trying to say?" Kanda asked.

"They're all things that happen to a body about three days after death," I told him. "Although I could be a day out, it all depends on how warm the weather has been."

"What's that got to do with anything?" Kanda asked, looking at me. "The whole process of the body bloating like that can be sped up, depending on how hot the environment is," I told him.

Smiling at me he said, "Where did you learn all that stuff?"

"My dad used to be a pathologist," I told him.

"Used to be?" he frowned.

"He died, cancer," I said.

"Sorry to hear that."

"Me too," I said, looking down at the mutilated boy stretched out before us. "He saved me; took me in off the streets. My dad was always telling me all kinds of weird stuff about bodies and things. It was kind of gruesome but it always fascinated me."

"What else can you see, Sherlock?" Kanda said, smirking.

Taking the flashlight from him, I cast light over the scene. "The boy was brought or carried here," I said.

"How can you tell?" Kanda asked with a frown.

"Look at his shoes," I told him. "There's no mud. If he walked here, there'd have to be mud, right?"

"I guess," Kanda grumbled.

"But wait a minute," I whispered, kneeling down again and checking the ground around the boy's body. I traced the tips of my fingers over the earth and dead leaves then inspected the boy. "That doesn't make sense," I said.

"What doesn't?" Kanda asked, sounding confused.

"The boy was murdered here – look, you can see the ground is spattered with his blood."

"So what's the problem?" "Apart from the boy, there were three others," I told him. "All of them were adults. Two were male, the third was female. The first male was about 6'2, the second shorter, about 5'10. He smoked Marlboro cigarettes, Lights in fact. But he came before the others. He had been waiting for them, I guess anywhere between 1 and 2 hours. The female was about 5'6 and had black hair which was dyed blonde."

"Are you making all this shit up?" Kanda growled from behind me. "You know, just because you're new to the job, you don't have to try and impress me."

"Shhh," I said, not taking my eyes off the ground. "But there's something wrong."

"What?" he started to sound impatient.

"They can't all have been carried here," I said, more to myself than him. "I can understand them carrying the victim here, but…" "But what?" Kanda hissed from behind me, and he sounded pissed off.

"Look, you can see the ground around the body is covered with footprints," I said. "Yeah, so?" Kanda said, leaning over my shoulder. "Well, there are no footprints leading to or from the body," I told him. "And your point is?" Kanda asked. "So how did the killers get here if they didn't walk?" I said, sounding exasperated. "Did they fly?" Then, before Kanda or even I could answer my own question, there was the sound of people approaching us from the distance.

"Who's there?" Kanda called out, sounding irritated. "It's just me and Constable Reever."

Aiming Kanda's flashlight in the direction of the voice, I could just make out two figures approaching us. As they drew nearer, I could see one of them was Sergeant Komui by the way he swayed and the other I guessed was Constable Reever. He was tall and lean, with spiked blonde hair.

He looked slightly older than Komui and I guessed he was about 40-ish. Both Komui and Reever had flashlights, the lights bouncing off the trees. Reaching us, Sergeant Komui leaned over the body of the boy and showered him with flashlight light. "Jesus wept!" he gasped, kissing the tiny crucifix pinned to his tie.

"It looks like we've got ourselves another one," Reever groaned, popping a cigarette between his lips and lighting it. "I don't think you should be smoking here," I said before I could stop myself.  
  
Raising an eyebrow with a cigarette dangling from the corner of his mouth, Constable Reever looked at me and said, "And you are?" Before I could answer, Komui had cut in and said, "This is Allen Walker, our new recruit."

Drawing on the end of his cigarette, Reever smiled at me and asked, "Do you have a problem with me smoking?" Meeting his stare, I said, "No, but I just don't think you should be smoking here, after all it is a crime scene. At training school..."

"…they fill your head with crap," Reever cut in. "This is the real world, sweetheart." I was just about to tell him that I wasn't his sweetheart when Kanda said, "Allen says that there was three of them and that the boy has been here at least three days."

I don't think Kanda said this to embarrass me, I think he really was impressed with what I had told him. Blowing smoke out of his nostrils, Reever laughed and said, "Looks like we got a right little Miss Marple this time around." Eyeing Reever, Sergeant Komui said, "Okay, Reever that's enough. Let's hear what the boy's got to say."

At first I didn't say anything, fearing Reever would start ragging on me again. I know that I'd only just met him, but I already disliked the guy. "Go on, Allen, tell them what you told me," Kanda said, and he sounded supportive, like a good friend would.

"Go on, Walker," Sergeant Komui urged. "You're with friends here." So, pointing the flashlight back at the body of Timothy Hearst, I crouched down and started to point out the footprints, blisters, and fluid which had come from the boy's mouth, nose, and ears.

Before I'd finished, Reever had started to spray laughter into the darkness. "What a bunch of horse shit!" he cried. "I don't know what they've been teaching you at training school but whatever it is, you ain't in no episode of CSI."

Standing, I looked pleadingly at Kanda, face red with embarrassment, wishing I hadn't said anything. When Reever had stopped laughing, he flicked his cigarette away into a nearby bush and Sergeant Komui stepped towards me cautiously.

"I admire your enthusiasm, Allen, but Reever is right, this isn't a T.V. program, this is real life. Being a police officer in the real world isn't like what you've been watching on T.V." Although Komui was trying to comfort me, I couldn't help but feel he was patronizing me. "I haven't been watching anything of the sort..." I started.

"Allen, this is a well, walked route by hikers and ramblers. Those footprints could have been left here by anyone. So what if there aren't any tracks leading to and from the murder scene? As far as we know, it could have been a really hot day and the earth could've been as dry as a bone." I wanted to tell him that in the cool shade of the trees, it was very unlikely that the ground would've been rock-hard, but I knew there was little point.

He didn't want some newbie coming into his town and telling him how to do his job. So, however much it pained me, I kept quiet. I was damp from the rain and cold. Not being able to hide my shivers any longer, Kanda approached me, and threw his coat around my shoulders, he said, "Go home moyashi. I'll take you." Without any resistance, I let Kanda guide me away from the mutilated body of the boy. As I went, I looked back to see Reever lighting up another cigarette.

Looking at me, he smirked and blew a cloud of smoke up into the night. I watched the smoke rise upwards, and as it dispersed, I noticed something. Aiming Kanda's flashlight up into the trees, I could see the branches above the boy were snapped and broken as if someone or something had crashed through them.

Turning away, I let Kanda lead me to my car. Ten minutes later, I was pulling up outside the Noah's Ark. "Is this it?" I asked, looking out of the window at the weary-looking building. It almost seemed to lean to the right, as if at any moment it was going to topple over.

The roof was thatched and the windows were lattice in design. Wild ivy climbed over the front of the Inn and up across the roof like a giant, green claw. The windows glowed orange from within and a sign which read The Noah's Ark wailed back and forth in the wind.

Swinging open the passenger door, Kanda went to climb out, but then stopped. Looking back at me he said, "You weren't making that stuff up back there, were you?" "No," I replied in annoyance. "So how did you figure it all out?" he asked, staring at me again and making me feel uncomfortable.

"How did you know how tall they were, the fact that one of them had arrived before the others, his brand of cigarettes, and that the female had black hair which she had dyed blonde? You must have been guessing some of that." "I wasn't guessing," I told him. "What then? Are you some kind of psychic?" and he half-laughed. "It doesn't matter," I told him, climbing from the car.

Putting his helmet onto his head and pulling the collar of his police coat up about his neck, he said, "So long, Allen Walker. I'll see you tomorrow night at seven." Then turning towards the Inn, just wanting to get out of the rain, I stopped.

Seeing as I now knew where the Inn was, I should really have offered him a lift back to the police station. But as I turned back towards him, I was surprised to see that he had already gone.

 


	3. Seeing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It wasn't magic, the clues were there if you looked for them. I'd always been like that.
> 
> My father had called it my gift, but it wasn't really. I just had a knack of noticing things that others seemed unable to see. 
> 
> I saw stuff that other people missed. But it wasn't magic and it wasn't a gift; I called it seeing.
> 
> But what about Kanda? What could I see about him?
> 
> Almost nothing.

Carrying the little belongings that I'd brought with me, I went into the Inn.

A crescent-shaped bar stood along the far wall. The Inn wasn't very busy, and those that huddled around the small fire and the tables fell into a hushed silence and looked at me. As I crossed the floor to the bar, I could feel their eyes staring at me.

It was so quiet that I could hear the wood snapping and crackling as it burnt in the fireplace. I looked across at it and noticed that someone had engraved a five-pointed star into the plaster above the fireplace. I immediately felt subconscious of my scar, and adjusted my bangs to hide my forehead.

Then in the far corner, I noticed a figure. He sat alone at a table which was lit with a candle and he warmed a glass of whiskey in his hand. The male had a hood pulled so low over his head that it concealed his face. Although I couldn't see his eyes, I knew he was watching me.

Trying not to make eye contact with those gathered in the Inn, I reached the bar. I had never felt so uncomfortable in my life, and I wondered why Master Cross had decided to rent me a room in such a godforsaken place.

When I thought I couldn't bear it any longer and was just about to pick up my case and run from the place, a tall ghostly-looking woman appeared from a small office behind the bar. White lengths of luscious hair protruded from her head, and her face was pale and extremely smooth. She looked like a ghost or an albino mermaid.

"Can I… help you?" she asked, her voice sounding melodious but broken.

"I have a room booked…" I started.

"Name?" the odd woman sighed, thumbing through a dusty-looking ledger behind the bar.

"Walker," I said. "Allen Walker."

The woman sniffed, and taking a key from a series of hooks on the wall behind her, she placed it on the bar and said, "Room… number two."

Taking the key, I said "Thank -"

"Top of the stairs... and turn right," the odd woman cut over me. "Breakfast is between six and seven... and dinner between eight and ten."

Looking at my wristwatch, I could see it had just gone ten. "I don't suppose there's any chance of something to eat?" I asked her.

"Dinner is between eight and ten," she repeated without looking up at me.

"I know, but it's only just a couple of minutes past, so I was wondering -" I began.

"Between eight and ten," the woman sighed again, but this time she looked up at me. Her eyes were a milky-blue and clouded by cataracts.

Shrugging my shoulders, as if I didn't really care, I picked up my case and as I did, I noticed something rather odd.

All the way along the old oak beams that supported the bar, someone had tied reams of garlic bulbs. There were hundreds, no thousands of them. And as I looked up, I could see they hung from the ceiling, at the back of the Inn door and walls.

"What's with the garlic?" I said, turning towards the odd woman, but she had disappeared back into her tiny office. Turning my back on all those watchful eyes, I made my way up the stairs to my room. Holding onto my case, I fumbled with the key as I slipped it into the lock.

Hearing it click, I pushed the door open and shut it behind me. The room was in darkness, so I ran my fingers blindly along the wall in search of the light switch. Finding it, I flipped it on, and the room lit up with a dim bulb that hung from the centre of the ceiling.

I looked around my new home and thought I understood why none of the other recruits had stayed a full year in this place.

There was a narrow-looking bed wedged in the far corner, an old fashioned looking wardrobe, and a desk with a lamp. The carpet looked threadbare, and the walls were a dingy grey colour.

There was a small bathroom, which had a toilet and bath. I didn't know how much headquarters were paying the old woman downstairs, but whatever it was, it was far too much.

Placing my case onto the bed, I went to the bathroom and ran myself a bath. While it was running, I unpacked my stuff and hung it in the wardrobe.

When I was all fixed up, I got undressed and climbed into the hot water. Closing my eyes, I lent my head back against the rim of the bath. I thought about everything that had happened since arriving at Noah's Innocence and my mind soon wandered to Kanda Yuu.

Out of everyone that I had met so far, he seemed the nicest. He had a brutal but honest way about him, and I was grateful that he took my side over that of Reever, who seemed like a real prick.

Loved himself, too, by the way he was acting all cocky. Sergeant Komui, I was still to make up my mind about. He seemed set in his ways and I guessed he didn't want some young cop coming in and telling him how to run things.

But I wasn't trying to do that. I didn't care that he wanted to lounge around the police station all night in his slippers, drinking coffee, or his clear over attachment to his little sister. But what did trouble me was his apparent disregard for properly investigating a crime scene. And not any old crime scene. That was the murder of an eight-year-old child and he was letting that idiot Reever smoke and trample all over it.

If only they'd taken the time to study it then they would have seen the things that I had. It wasn't magic, the clues were there if you looked for them. I'd always been like that.

My father had called it my _gift_ – but it wasn't really – I just had a knack of noticing things that others seemed unable to see. I saw stuff that other people missed. But it wasn't magic and it wasn't a _gift_ , I called it _**seeing**_.

But what about Kanda? What could I see about him? Almost nothing. He was like a blank sheet of paper. Apart from his obvious good looks and oriental heritage, it was the fact that he was a mystery that I found so attractive.

Sinking beneath the hot water, images of the Hearst boy lying dead with his throat ripped out rippled across the front of my mind. There were two things that troubled me.

My father had often told me that you could tell a lot from a crime scene by the pattern of blood left behind. But that was the problem, there was very little blood for such a gaping wound.

The brachiocephalic artery had been ripped apart and I remembered my father telling me once how he had worked on a murder where the victim had had their throat cut. Their life blood had pumped away through the wound in that particular artery.

How then had there been so little blood at the murder scene of the Hearst boy? Where had all the blood gone? It was almost as if it had been siphoned off.

And what about the lack of footprints leading to and from the scene? I didn't buy Komui's theory about the ground being too dry for any prints to be left. If prints could be lifted from carpets and lino floors, they could be seen in earth, however dry.

But how had the killers got to the scene? The only clue was the hole made in the trees above, where the branches had been broken and smashed. It was almost as if someone or something had entered the crime scene from above. But that would be impossible, right? _Right!?_

As I tried to examine these theories inside my head, I was startled by the sound of someone outside my bedroom door.

Leaping from the bath, I wrapped a towel around my waist and went into the bedroom. Tiptoeing to the door, I listened to the rustling sound. Screwing up my eyes, I could see a shadow fleeting back and forth in the gap beneath my door.

Reaching out for the deadbolt that I'd left unlocked, I called out, "Who's there?"

There was silence.

"What do you want?"

Then I heard the sound of footsteps rushing away. Holding the towel tight about me, I yanked open the door and peered along the landing. And as I did, I caught the last fleeting glimpse of a shadow disappearing down the stairs.

My instincts told me to run after them, to find out who it had been. But with nothing on except the bath towel, I reluctantly stepped back into my room, and as I did, I noticed a small white envelope tacked to the door.

Removing it, I went back inside. Across the front of the envelope someone had scribbled _Allen_. Sitting on my bed, I opened it and a small silver crucifix fell out into my hand. Placing it on the desk beside my bed, I went back to the envelope.

Studying it, my heart skipped a beat, as I could see from looking at it, that the person I'd seen sitting in the bar with their face hidden behind the hood, was the person responsible for leaving me the crucifix.


	4. Jerry and Hevlaska

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Undoubtedly there is a murderer in our midst,” he said, and again his voice had dropped to a whisper, and he leaned forward towards me. “But I reckon all this attention is just encouraging him, getting him all excited like.”
> 
> I didn’t tell him about the three sets of tracks that I had found by Timothy Hearst’s body; I let him continue to believe that the murders were being committed by just the one killer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry on advance, there is minor Jerry/Allen flirting. Minor, VERY minor. Its exposition time tho, so enjoy. These next couple chapters were fun to rehash.

I woke early, just before six. I didn’t want to miss breakfast, like I’d missed dinner the night before. The owner of the Inn seemed particularly strict on the rules surrounding meal times.

As I pulled on a black turtleneck, joggers, and my arched sneakers, my stomach groaned. It was then I realised I hadn’t eaten anything since before leaving my home in Havensfield the day before. 

As I made my way down to the dining area, I switched on my iphone 5. I scrolled through my contact list, until I came across Master Cross. 

I pressed the call button, but all I got back was an unobtainable tone. As I reached the dining area, I noticed the signal bar on my phone was red, indicating that it was unable to find a signal.

Shoving the phone in my pocket I sighed, frustrated that I couldn’t get hold of Master Cross, and sat at a table near the door but still in the center of the room.

I wanted to beg him to find me some better accommodations. The odd woman that I’d spoken with the night before glided over to my table in a skin-tight, thigh-length white dress.

My table alone was then laid with a bowl, plate, and a mug. Apart from me, the small eating area was deserted.

“Tea... or coffee?” the old woman mumbled, not looking up from a small pad she held in her pale, thin hands.

“Good morning,” I smiled, hoping to get off on a better footing with her than I had the night before.

“Tea or coffee?” the woman asked again, and her eyes met mine with her vacant stare.

“Coffee, with milk please,” I told her, trying hard to keep up my smile.

“Bacon and eggs?” the woman asked, the pen poised over her note pad.

“And toast too please." I was hungry, and would have ordered more but I wanted to go for a run and I didn’t want to be bloated out with a full stomach.

“Bacon... eggs… toast,” the woman said, turning away and gliding towards the kitchen. 

The dining area, like the bar, was decorated with cloves of garlic, but with one difference. Along the far wall was a small coffee table that was covered with a white lace cloth. 

On top were an arrangement of crucifixes and small bottles of water. With a black marker pen, someone had written across each bottle the words Holy Water.

Smiling to myself, I'm not at all superstitious, I got up from my seat and crossed over to the table. The crucifixes were identical to the one that had been left for me the night before. 

Picking up one of the tiny bottles of water, I heard the old woman speak to me as she shuffled towards my table with my plate of bacon, eggs, and toast.

“They’re for sale... if you want one.” she said, gently placing the plate on the table.

Putting the little bottle of holy water back with the others, I crossed back to my table and sat down.

“Why would I want to buy a bottle of holy water?” I asked sociably, and took a bite of the toast.

“For protection,” she said easily, pouring half a cup of coffee.

“Protection from what?” I asked, popping some eggs in my mouth.

Glancing back over her shoulder as if she were scared that someone might be eavesdropping, she lent in towards me and whispered, “From... the vampires,” and her breath smelt like fresh toothpaste and felt cool against my face.

Looking straight back at her, I said, “I don’t believe in vampires.”

“That’s what the others said... when I tried to warn them,” she hushed and snatched another quick look over her shoulder after she poured in the milk.

“Who?” I asked, sipping my newly made coffee.

“The other ones,” she sighed, starting to sound impatient. “The other police officers who came here before you.”

Looking into her milky-blue eyes I asked, “Do you know what happened to them?”

“They...” she started but was cut off by a gruff sounding voice from the other side of the room.

“That’s enough, Hevlaska!” the voice said, and I looked up to see a buff long haired man come sashaying into the dining area.

He wore a white shirt with no sleeves and buttons trailing down to his white apron that was pristine but worn down with age. 

His cheeks were flushed red and his braids were dyed pink. Although his glasses were fogged, I could clearly see the anger and frustration written on his forehead.

“The boy... has a right to know!” the pale woman, now identified as Hevlaska, frowned back at him.

“There’s nothing for him to know!” her coworker snapped back. Then crossing towards the table with the bottles of holy water and crucifixes, he added, “and how many times have I asked you to get rid of all this bloody nonsense?”

“You will mind your tone, Jerry,” Hevlaska hissed softly. “This is my Inn, it isn't yours just yet.”

“But you’re scaring away all the customers,” he told her, his temper fading. Jerry placed his hand on his hip and as he pouted I could see the lines of worry deeply engraved into the corner of his eyes.

“It’s not me that’s scaring them off,” she snapped at him, with a ferocity I had not thought her capable. “It’s those things, those creatures!”

Jerry saw me staring at both of them as they argued in front of me. With a fake smile stretched across his face, he came towards me and said, “I’m sorry about my sister, don’t be put off by what she says. It would be a shame to lose one as cute as you.”

Munching on the last of the toast, I smiled and said, “Thanks but there’s no need to worry about me, I’m not easily spooked.”

Hearing this, Hevlaska glided towards me and cupping my face she sighed wistfully, “You will be.”

Taking his sister by the arm, he sighed as he escorted her from the room and back into the kitchen. Within moments, he had returned and came to clear away my empty plate and mug.

“So what is all this stuff about vampires?” I asked him flirtatiously. I learned early to use my looks like I would a trap, with precision and efficiency. Thanks Cross, one for you.

“Just stories,” he said, checking me out. I pouted, and his mouth dropped. 

“Okay, the town has had more than its fair share of strange happenings, but I don’t agree with all this scaremongering... It was good for business at first. People came from all over to visit the town, believing it to be infested with vampires. We did the Inn up as you can see, and we even did a roaring trade in those little crosses and bottles of water; but it was just a laugh, you know to attract the tourists,” he winked as he told me.

“So what went wrong?” I asked him, going all doe-eyed.

“More and more murders started to happen. People started to go missing and then there was the grave robbing,” he said, sitting across from me.

“Grave robbing?”

“Yeah, but it was more than that,” he said and his voice dropped to a whisper. “The bodies of those poor murdered souls were being dug up and stolen.”

“By whom?” I asked him, leaning forward and gently grabbing his arm.

“Greedy freaks, that’s who,” he spat. “The whole thing just started to get out of hand. People were making a lot of money, us included, off the back of the rumours being spread about the vampires."

Stroking my hand, he sighed. "But people got bored or scared of Noahs Innocence, and just stopped coming. The guest houses started to empty, the restaurants had no bookings, and the Highway became deserted."

"So the incidents just got more and more bizarre, and I reckon it was all down to some of the locals, hoping that they could entice people back by strange evil-doings and stories. Everybody likes a good scare, don’t they?”

“Indeed,” I said, moving my free hand to my mouth, appearing scandalized. “But digging up the bodies of murder victims seems a bit extreme.”

“Not if you’ve got mouths to feed and a business to keep going,” he sighs. “Folks will do the strangest things to survive.”

“But what about these murders?” I asked him, interested to see what his view was. Like me, he hadn’t been hooked on the whole vampire thing.

“Undoubtedly there is a murderer in our midst,” he said, and again his voice had dropped to a whisper, and he leaned forward towards me. “But I reckon all this attention is just encouraging him, getting him all excited like.”

I didn’t tell him about the three sets of tracks that I had found by Timothy Hearst’s body; I let him continue to believe that the murders were being committed by just the one killer.

“What do you mean by excited?” I asked shifting til we were a mere inch apart.

“These serial killers love all the attention they get from the media, don’t they,” he said more as a statement than a question. 

“They love it when the newspapers give ‘em a name like ‘The Ripper’ or ‘The Black Panther’, makes them feel all important like, when really, they’re nothing but murderers,” he said stroking my hand, now being carressed by his giant hand.

“So do you have any ideas?” I asked him with a flirtatious giggle.

“About what, exactly?” he asked with a smirk.

“Who this serial killer might be?” I said, tilting my head and smiling.

Staring at my somewhat exposed neck, Jerry swallowed, “Shouldn’t I be the one asking you that question? After all, you’re the police officer aren’t you?”

Getting up from my seat gently, I said teasingly, “I’ll work on it for you.”

“You make sure you do, pretty boy,” he said as I reached the door.

Looking back at him with my eyelids lowered, I said, “I’m sure Sergeant Murphy is doing his best. I’m just the help” But in my heart, I doubted that he was.

As the door closed I heard Jerry’s wistful sigh, and knew if I ever needed someone Jerry was hooked.


	5. Overcast

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Narrowing my eyes as I drew in lungfuls of oxygen, I shouted as loud as I could, “Why did you leave me that crucifix?”
> 
> The cyclist, whoever he was, didn’t respond, he just sat motionless on his bike.
> 
> “I know it was you!” I yelled at him. Turning, I started to run again. Okay, I thought. If he wanted to play games, I could play along.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things get worse before they get better. Also I'm one of those who awful people who dissappear for months and then posts like 3 chapters in a row.
> 
> I'm sorry.

The morning was overcast and dreary looking, but at least the rain from the night before had stopped. I didn’t know the area at all, and I thought I would spend the morning getting to know it. 

My first official night shift started at seven, and I wanted to get a feel for the place and its people before I started policing it and them. If I were going to be successful in my new post, I would have to know my patch.

Heading back in the direction that Kanda had brought me the night before, I started a slow jog. There were no pavements and I had to keep to the side of the road. 

In some places the undergrowth was so overgrown, I had to run further out into the road. 

It wasn’t as if I were putting myself in danger, as the roads seemed deserted. Not one car or person had passed me in the twenty minutes or so that it had taken me to run all the way from the Inn to the outskirts of town.

Slowing down, I looked left then right, trying to decide on which way to go. Then looking over my shoulder in the direction that I’d come, my stomach tightened and my heart sped up as I saw the hooded figure from the previous night. 

He was cycling towards me, his face hidden by the same hoodie and scarf he’d worn before. Turning front again, I turned left, wondering if he would follow me. 

I hadn’t gone very far when I glanced back again, and to my surprise saw him turn into the narrow road that I had taken.

I tried to tell myself that perhaps it was just coincidence that he was cycling the same stretch of road that I’d chosen to jog along. 

But who was I trying to kid? He was following me. After all, I knew it had been him who had left that crucifix tacked to my door. But why? Perhaps I should ask him?

Slowing to a standstill in the middle of the road, I turned around, and with my hands folded over my chest, I faced the oncoming hooded cyclist. 

Then seeing that I had stopped running, he stopped cycling. There was a long moment that seemed to stretch out forever as I stared at him and he stared back at me from beneath his hood.

Turning my back on him, I started to run again, this time picking up my speed. After a short time I looked back, only to find that he had started cycling again towards me. 

I slowed and so did he, always careful to keep a good amount of distance between us. What did this guy want? I wondered. And why wouldn’t he show me his face?

Again I stopped running and turned to face him. As I suspected he would, the cyclist stopped, and just sat and watched me. I sighed in exasperation.

“What do you want?” I called out, and my voice sounded echoey as it travelled across the empty fields on either side of the road. “How do you know my name?”

The hooded guy said nothing, but just sat on his bike and looked at me from beneath his hood. Then without warning, I ran as fast as I could towards him. He turned his bike around in the road and pedaled as fast as he could away from me.

Knowing that I could never catch him, I slowed, doubled up gasping for breath. Once I had stopped, so did the cyclist ahead of me. Turning his bike again in the road, he sat and watched me.

Narrowing my eyes as I drew in lungfuls of oxygen, I shouted as loud as I could, “Why did you leave me that crucifix?”

The cyclist, whoever he was, didn’t respond, he just sat motionless on his bike.

“I know it was you!” I yelled at him. Turning, I started to run again. Okay, I thought. If he wanted to play games, I could play along. 

Ahead there was a bend in the road, and running as fast as I could, I raced towards it. I rounded the bend and saw that it opened out into a wide open area of wild grass and sand, which led down through the cliffs and towards the cove. 

Off to the right was an outcrop of rocks. Diving behind them, I lay flat against the ground. From my hiding place, I could hear the sea crashing against the shore in the distance, and the sound of seagulls as they squawked overhead.

Peering around the rocks, I watched as the cyclist rode his bike onto the open area. He stopped, and looked from left to right, his hood never moving, not offering the smallest glimpse of who was beneath it.

After a few seconds, he rode forward and headed towards the rocks. As he drew nearer, I could see that his hands were covered with fingerless gloves, and apart from the dark black hoodie and orange scarf, he wore grey jeans and sneakers. 

There was a chill in the air, but I found it odd that he was so snugly wrapped up and wearing gloves. It was as if he didn’t want to show any more of his skin than necessary.

Squatting on all fours, I waited for him to draw level with the rocks. When he was almost on top of me, I sprang from my hiding place and made a desperate grab for his handlebars. 

I managed to get hold of one before he twisted them away and out of reach. Holding on as best I could, the bike wobbled and the cyclist steadied himself by slamming both of his feet down into the sand.

“Who are you?” I hollered at him, his head lowered so I couldn’t see beneath his hood. “Tell me who you are!” I demanded.

Without so much as a murmur, he rolled the bike backwards, dragging me along with him. Losing my footing, I fell forward, letting go of the handlebar. 

As I went down, I caught my wrist on one of the bike pedals, tearing the skin from my wrist.

Crying out in pain, I rolled into the sand and cradled my bleeding arm. 

Seeing that he had cast me loose, he pedalled as fast and as hard as he could away from me and down the narrow lane towards the cove.

“Come back!” I yelled after him, but he was soon gone, disappearing amongst the rocks and cliffs. 

Rolling onto my back, I gripped my bleeding wrist in an attempt to stop the flow of blood.

It oozed through my fingers, in red sticky rivulets and for just the briefest of moments, I felt dizzy and I didn’t even have time to wonder if I’d pass out, before the world faded to black. 

“Are you alright Moyashi?” I heard a familiar voice ask.

Opening my eyes, I looked up to see Kanda standing over me, a concerned look etched across his face. “What happened?”

“I fell over,” I said, struggling to get to my feet.

“Get over here,” Kanda grumbled, offering me his hand to help me up. It was then that he saw the blood flowing through my fingers and he almost seemed to flinch in horror.

“What’s wrong?” I asked, getting myself to my feet. 

Again I couldn’t help but notice that he seemed unable to take his eyes off the blood that now ran up my wrist towards my forearm and dribbled from the tips of my fingers. 

The color had drained from his face and he looked suddenly unwell.

“Are you okay?” I asked him, and he took a step backwards.

Continuing to stare at my bleeding wrist, Kanda said, “I’m not very… comfortable around blood.”

“You’re meant to be a cop,” I scoffed before wincing in pain.

Kanda seemed to go into a trance, as he continued staring at my wrist.

“Well don’t just stand there,” I demanded weakly. “Give me a hand.”

Then shaking his head, as if coming out of a trance, Kanda said, “Yeah. Sure.” Then pulling his sweatshirt from over his head, he wrapped it tightly around my arm. 

I noticed how careful he was not to get any of my blood on him.

“What are you doing out here?” I asked him, as he knotted the sleeves of his sweatshirt around my arm like a makeshift bandage.

“I could ask the same of you,” he sneered, eyeing me.

“I was going for a run,” I told him, frowning. “That was until I started to be followed.”

“Followed?” he asked, sounding alarmed. “By who?”

“I don’t know,” I said. “He had his face covered. But he left me a crucifix outside my room last night.”

“A crucifix?” Kanda asked. “Why?”

“I don’t know that either.” I told him.

“Where is he now?”

“Cycled off down there after knocking me to the ground,” I said, pointing in the direction of the rugged path. “Where did you come from?”

“That way,” Kanda said, nodding in the direction that I had been pointing.

“You must have passed him then,” I told him. “He was on a bike.”

Shaking his head hesitantly, Kanda said, “No one passed me on a bike.”

“Are you sure?” I asked, feeling confused.

“Che. Yea I’m sure,” he grunted. “Let’s get you back to the Inn, before you bleed to death.”

“You never said what you were doing way out here,” I reminded him. I admit it; I was suspicious.

“Oh,” Kanda smirked, “I often drive out here, park up and take in the sea.”

“Where’s your bike?”

“Over there, on a piece of flat,” he said, pointing beyond the rocks. ”There’s a narrow road, but you can get a car up here if you’re careful.” 

Then wrapping his arm around my shoulder, he led me back down the path.


	6. Backwater Clues

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Look at it. What can you see?”
> 
> Picking up the envelope by the corners, Kanda turned it over in his hands.
> 
> After several moments, he looked up at me with narrowed eyes and said, “It’s got your name on the front.”
> 
> “But what else can you see?” I huffed, pushing his shoulder.
> 
> With a frown on his face, he said, “Nothing.’
> 
> “Give it to me,” I said, holding out my hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay. This took a bit more editing than the last chapter. The dialogue wasn't really Kanda, ya'know what I mean?

Back at the Inn, I invited Kanda up to my room.

Closing the door behind us, Kanda sat on the chair by the desk and I went to the bathroom.

Removing the makeshift bandage from my wrist, I pulled off my sweatshirt and ran my arm under the cold tap.

The icy water made the cut sting and I winced, hissing in pain.

Kanda appeared in the doorway and asked, “Are you dying?”

Seeing that I was standing there bare chested, a dust of colour sprung into his cheeks.

Although he looked embarrassed walking in on me like that, he didn’t immediately turn away, but instead lingered in the doorway and searched me from head to toe.

I stood still as he inspected me, and for the longest seconds of my life we just stood and looked at each other.

Then slowly, I turned away and said, “You couldn’t get me a fresh jumper from the wardrobe, could you?”

There was another pause as if it took a moment for my request to register within Kanda.

Then looking away and almost colliding with the doorframe, he scoffed, “Che. Give me a minute.”

Placing my wrist back under the running water, I cleaned the cut with a piece of tissue paper.

To my relief, I could see that it wasn’t deep and thankfully wouldn’t need stitches.

“Here,” I heard Kanda say, and I looked up to see his arm poking around the doorframe with a black T-shirt hanging from his fist.

This time around, he hadn’t barged straight in on me.

Smirking to myself, I turned off the running water, patted the cut dry with the tissue, then snatched the T-shirt from him.

Pulling it over my head, I went back into the bedroom to find him sitting back in the chair by the desk.

“Dead yet?” he scoffed at me.

“I’ll live,” I snarled back.

“Damn. Gotta try harder,” he grumbled, and flashed me one of his smirks.

Taking some plasters that I had buried at the bottom of my make-up bag, I covered the cut.

When I had finished, Kanda asked, “Had you seen the guy on the bike before?”

Pleased that he was ignoring my makeup bag I smiled contently. “Last night, in the bar downstairs,” I told him.

“Then again leaving the crucifix outside your room.” he nodded.

“No, I didn’t see him do that,” I said.

“Then how did you know it was him who left it?”

Pointing to the envelope on the desk, I said to Kanda, “That was the envelope that he left. Look at it. What can you see?”

Picking up the envelope by the corners, Kanda turned it over in his hands.

After several moments, he looked up at me with narrowed eyes and said, “It’s got your name on the front.”

“But what else can you see?” I huffed, pushing his shoulder.

With a frown on his face, he said, “Nothing.’

“Give it to me,” I said, holding out my hand.

Coming to sit next to me on the bed, Kanda handed me the envelope.

“The guy I saw in the Inn last night was wearing a hoodie and he wore it in such a way so as to mask his face,” I told him.

“So if you didn’t see his face, how do you know it was him?” Kanda asked with a growing frown.

“I’m getting to that,” I said. “The guy in the hoodie was sitting at a table in the corner. He was sitting away from the rest of the other people in the bar. The corner of the room was dark and I noticed that there was a candle on the table. He was holding a glass of whiskey in his left hand.”

“So?” Kanda said.

“Well take a closer look at the envelope,” I told him, holding it up. “The writing on the front has been written by a man. See the way the writing smears a little to the right? That suggests it has been written by a left-handed person.”

“But that still doesn’t mean…” Kanda started, leaning in closer to me.

“Now look here and here,” I cut him off, pointing to the top right-hand corner of the envelope.

“See those spots of wax? He used the candle so he could see to write my name on the front, and in doing so, some of the wax spattered onto the envelope.”

“But…” Kanda sighed, frowning.

“Then there’s this,” I smirked, lifting the flap of the envelope and running the seal against the tip of my nose.

“The unmistakable smell of whiskey. The man probably took a swig to moisten his tongue so as to seal the envelope securely.”

“And the crucifix?” Kanda asked, and he sounded somewhat in awe.

“Easy-peasy,” I smiled. “They sell them in the bar.”

“But…” Kanda mumbled.

“I know, it’s all subjective, but I was convinced I was right after my tussle with the man on his bike this morning,” I nodded.

“But how?”

“As I gripped his handlebars, again I noticed several spots of white wax on the sleeve of his black-coloured hoodie. You would’ve had to been blind not to have seen them.”

Then looking Kanda straight in the eye, I added, “I know this town is somewhat remote but you do have electricity. It seems doubtful then that he would have got the wax on his sleeve anywhere other than the bar downstairs.”

Kanda sat in silence for a moment, then whispered, “That’s cool, Allen."

Looking down into his lap, kanda seemwd to recompose himself. Then when he lifted his head to look at me, he lifted one brow and huffed "That was pretty good detective work for a Moyashi!”

 Mildly offended by the Japanese nickname, I sent him a two-fingered salute.

“See I told you it wasn’t magic. It’s just that I have this habit of seeing things that other people ignore.” 

Ignoring me Kanda asked,“Is that how you knew so much about what had happened at the crime scene in the woods last night?”

“Yes,” I stated calmly.

“Admit it, you guessed some of it.”

“I never guess, not ever.” I glared at him.

"Explain", said Kanda while tilting his head to the left.

"Elaborate." I challenge, meeting his stare with a steady gaze.

"How did you know how many killers there were? How did you know what sex they were, the fact that one had arrived before the others and had waited more than an hour for them? And that one of them dyed their hair?” Kanda demanded, never taking his narrowed eyes from mine.

Blinking slowly I explained.

“Firstly there were three different sets of footprints around the body. Two sets were too big to have belonged to females.

"The third set was much smaller. Too big to be a child’s and too small to be a man’s. So that only left a female.

"By the size of the gait between each footstep, I could roughly work out each person’s height.

"One of the males, the one that was about six-foot-two tall, was the smoker. His footprints were clearly visible by the tree next to the body of the dead boy.

“Several cigarette butts, Marlboro in brand, had been ground out by the base of the tree, by the same boot that had left the footprints, which meant they could have only been left by him and not by anyone else.

"The fact that there were several, suggests that he waited some time for the others, and while he did, he smoked to pass the time.

"Depending on how heavy a smoker he is determines how long he waited there. Let’s say he smoked four to five in an hour, then he waited about an hour and a half, but no more than two.

"Wrapped around one of the boy’s fingers was a long blonde hair. It could have come from the head of a male, but after quickly examining it in the torchlight, I could see that the first half inch of the hair leading from the root was black.

"Therefore the hair was more than likely to have come from the female. It’s not often that a male in this backwater place would have dyed his hair peroxide blonde. And that’s about it,” I finished out of breath and looked away from Kanda’s stoic face.

“ _That’s about it_?” Kanda bristled through his teeth. “You noticed all of that in the short ass time that you were there?”

“It just happens,” I scoff at him. “I just notice things.”

“That’s odd,” Kanda mumbled as he cracked his knuckles.

“No, it’s good police work,” I smirked. “I haven’t told you anything that forensics wouldn’t find.”

“Forensics,” Kanda said, and his voice sounded kind of flat.

“I know this town is like at the end of the Earth, but you must have forensic officers?” I asked him.

“Yeah, we do have a forensic officer,” he mumbled and glared at the dingy water stained ceiling.

“Who?” I asked, skeptically.

“Reever,” he grunted with a frown.

“Bollicks! That wanker!?”’ I exclaimed. “He couldn’t find his bloody way out of an elevator!”

 How could the universe fuck up that bad. Shite! This is why the murders were going unsolved!

“Che. He’s not _that_  bad. He’s just a little suspicious of you. He's the only reason Komui does any goddamn work. Plus he’s been on a course and everything,” Kanda tried.

“A course?!” I gasp in disbelief. I'm gonna have to report this. “No wonder the killers haven’t been caught, if he’s responsible for examining the crime scenes.”

“He seems to do a thorough job,” Kanda still trying to assure me. “I’ve seen him gathering up evidence and bagging and tagging it for forensics to examine.”

“You have forensic officers posted out here?” I asked, hoping that he would say yes.

“No,” he said. “But Reever puts the stuff in the freezer back at the station and they either come and collect or he sends it to them via post.”

“And what have been the results so far?” I asked him with narrowed eyes.

“We don’t even have a fucking suspect!,” Kanda growled, looking away from me.

“What about those teeth marks you told me about?”

“They’re not even sure what type of creature they belong to. The teeth don’t appear to be that of a human, more like some kind of wild dog,” Kanda stated cautiously.

“There wasn’t any dog or any other type of wild animal involved in the death of Timothy Hearst,” I insisted.

“But even with your great powers of observation,” Kanda said, “you still don’t know how the killers got to and from the crime scene?”

He glared at me and I pictured the broken branches in the trees above the boy’s mutilated body.

“Well?” he asked, sounding impatient.

“I don’t know,” I admitted, the only possibility left after examining the scene was that the killers had entered the scene from above. But I didn’t want to say that, because it would have been impossible.

“Look Allen, we might not be fucking super-cops from headquarters, but we’ve done our best with the limited resources that we have,” he snarled, getting up from the edge of the bed.

 

Holding out my good hand towards him, I said, “Kanda, I wasn’t trying to insult you or your team – it’s just…”

“Just what?” he asked. “None of us are as switched on as you? Is that it?”

I shook my head and looked away from him, but he must have seen the  _'yes'_ in my eyes.

“You’ve been in Noah’s Innocence five fucking minutes and you think you know this case better than us,” he said still snarling.

“This isn’t a normal town and the murders aren’t normal either. Whoever or whatever is carrying out these killings will be caught, one way or another,  we’ll fucking catch them.”

“I’m sorry,” I frowned sadly. “I didn’t mean to offend you.”

“Just take some time to get to know this shitty town and its dumbass people before you go jumping to any conclusions,” he said and his voice had softened.

Then coming towards me and lifting me off the bed by the hand, he stared into my eyes and said, “I trust you to last longer than the other recruits they sent.”

“Why?” I said, searching his navy blue eyes.

“You’re not that annoying, considering you're a Moyashi” he smirked, then headed towards the door.

“Is that all?” I called after him with small glare.

“And you seem like a good cop,” he said with a roll of his eyes.

“Just good?” I grinned.

“If you really want to impress me,” he flat-lined, “tell me the name of the hooded guy who’s been following you and then explain how those killers got to and from that crime scene.

"Do that and you won’t just be good, you’ll be fucking  amazing.” Snatching up his sweatshirt covered in my blood, he left the room, closing the door behind him.

I went to the window and looked out. After a few moments, he appeared below and made his way to his bike.

Unaware that I was watching him, he climbed onto it.

Then he did something so strange and unexpected, I gasped aloud.

Taking the sweatshirt he’d wrapped around my wrist, he raised it to his face and sniffed the bloodstains that I’d left on it.

  
Starting the engine on his bike, he sped off down the country lane and disappeared from view.


	7. Mimi's Grave

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Bugger off you twat!!,” I cried, reaching for my Taser. Then, at the very last moment, changing my mind, I stuck my hand inside my jacket.
> 
> “Hungry!” she screeched, lunging forward.
> 
> “Suck on this!” I screamed and stabbed the tiny silver crucifix into her tongue. Almost at once, the girls eyes grew fat and wide and the brightness within them seemed to fade.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I have a Galaxy S5 Active and it does not work as described in this story, ok? I am unfamiliar with other phones, and this particular model shows an E and some symbols.
> 
> So a less than accurate description of phone usages and features awaits you below.

I slept to just before six, and when I woke, my room was entrenched in darkness. Still wearing my jogging bottoms and jumper, I remembered that I crashed out on my bed after Kanda had left.

I’d only intended to doze but I was grateful that I’d slept well, as I my first night shift started in just over an hour. Crossing to the window, I looked out at the cold December evening and could see that it was raining again. 

Didn’t it ever stop raining in this town?, I wondered. After a quick shower, I quickly dressed into my uniform and went downstairs. 

Before leaving my room, I snatched up the tiny silver crucifix and stuffed it into my jacket pocket.  _'_ _For luck, on a rainy day.'_

As soon as I stepped into the hall, I could smell roast beef wafting up from downstairs. The smell of it made my stomach somersault with hunger, but I didn’t have time to stop and eat, I’d have to grab something qiuck, while out on patrol.

As I made my way down the stairs, I pulled my _Iphone S5_  from my pants pocket and checked my reception. The signal bar was still glowing red,  telling me there was no signal. 

I was still keen to contact Master Cross; if for nothing more than to update him to how I was settling in. As I passed through the bar area, Hevlaska was shuffling, soundlessly, back and forth behind it.

“Hevlaska. Do you have a phone I could use?” I asked nervously, shifting from foot to foot, as she stared at me with unseeing milky-blue eyes.

“... A phone?” she mumbled, absently tugging at her loose white curls.

“Yes, I need to make a call and I don’t seem to be able to get a signal on my cell,” I told her.

“Sure... we have... a phone,” Hevlaska whispered looking at the floor with the most painfully confused expression.

_'It's been a long day for you hasn't it? You poor thing...if only you weren't so adamant about running this place.'_

“Do you think I could you use it please?” I asked soft and slow, so as not to confuse her more.

“You could... if it worked,” she said, eyeing me sadly with her glazed stare.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I asked her. “Is the phone broken?”

“Not broken,” she giggled softly; eyes coming to life, if only for a second. “This weather... we’ve been having... has brought down all the lines in the area. God only knows why... we pay for line rental in these parts, they’re always coming down.”

Looking into her amused eyes, I sigh, “Not to worry, I’ll use the phone at the station.” 

“Good luck dear", she chimed with a tiny smiled as I turned away grumbling under my breath about backwater towns and crazy hermits.

* * *

 

Throwing my cap and utility belt onto the passenger seat, I made the drive to the police station. As it had the night before, rain and wind lashed out onto my tiny car, and I gripped the wheel, hoping that I could keep it on the road. 

Leaning forward, I switched on the radio and was met with the deafening sound of static. Switching it off, I sat back in the seat and began to fear that the world outside Noah’s Innocence was **lost**.

Parking my VWVortex outside the station, I grabbed my kit and hurried inside. Sergeant Komui was just as I’d found him the night before, slippered feet propped up on his desk, sipping on an oversized coffee mug. 

Reever was at the other, smaller, desk and was working through a large pile of paperwork, a cigarette smouldering away in an ashtray in front of him. Again, I looked at the _No-Smoking_ sign fastened to the wall. Reever caught me looking at it and winked at me.

The door leading from the front office opened and Kanda stood on the other side of it.

“Evening _Moyashi_ ,” he grinned. _'_ _A challenge if I'd ever seen one.'_ From his crossed arms to the tilt of his head.

“Hello _BaKanda_ ,” I smirked back, but the thought of how I’d seen him sniffing the sweatshirt covered in my blood, turned my smirk into a grimace.

“You okay pipsqueak?”

“Sure,” I nodded, ignoring the insult with a smile.

“You look tense,” he scoffed.

“First night nerves.” One shy smile and Kanda scoffed.

“You’ve got nothing to be nervous about,” Sergeant Komui said, refilling his giant mug. “Consider us like family now.”

“Let's get this shitty tour over with ,” Kanda said, guiding me to a door set into the far wall. Leading me into a narrow corridor, he pointed out the bathrooms and locker room, the mess room, and exhibits store. 

At the end of the corridor was a secured cabinet. Taking a key from his pocket, Kanda said, “You’ll be needing one of these”, and tossed it at me. I caught the key and pushed it in my pants pocket.

“It will open the cabinet where we store the CS gas, pepper spray and Tasers,” he told me. “Yours are marked with the number four.”

“What’s under there?” I asked him, pointing to a hatch in the floor of the corridor. It had been secured with a large padlock.

“Che, that’s just the basement. It’s full of old office furniture and stuff,  just crap really,” he smirked. Then taking me by the arm, he dragged me further down the corridor. At the end was a metal gate. 

Unlocking it, he swung it open and said, “This is the cell area. There are only three cells, each cell has two beds. As you can probably guess, we don’t have much use for them. But they do come in handy from time to time.”

Switching off the light, he swung the gate shut. “Get your shit together and I’ll take you out on patrol,” he smirked. “Looks like your first night will be a busy one.”

“How come?” I asked him, eyebrow raised.

“Father Krory, the priest up at St. Roseanne, has reported that another grave has been desecrated,” he told me.

“Whose grave?” I asked him.

“The grave is that of a fifteen-year-old orphan girl who was killed a month or so ago. Her name was Mimi,” Kanda said.

“Did she die like the others?” I asked, already guessing his answer.

“Che,” he said, turning away. “I’ll see you outside in five.”

Drawing my equipment from the secured cabinet, I took a radio that had been charging in the office. Slipping it on my police jacket, Sergeant Komui looked up at me and asked, “All set Constable Walker?”

“I guess,” I murmured refastening my jacket.

“You be careful out there,” Reever smiled, sucking on the end of his cigarette.

“Don’t take any notice of him, he means well,” Komui said. “I’m sure Kanda will take good care of you. He’s a good kid. Bit harsh, but a good kid nonetheless.”

“Taking you up to the graveyard, is he?” Reever grinned.

“That’s right,” I said curtly, my stare not giving him an inch.

“Keep an eye out for the vampires,” he said, and again that cheesy grin of his spread right across his face.

“Vampires?” I said, as if I had no idea of the stories that I’d already been told.

“Haven’t you heard?” Reever said, with genuine surprise. He appeared concerned for the first time since I met him.

“Heard what?” I said, acting dumb.

“Put a sock in it,” Komui told Reever. Then turning to face me, he added, “Just be careful, Allen, and you’ll be fine.”

Turning my back on them, I left the station. Kanda was waiting outside in a scratched-up police car. Yanking open the passenger door, I jumped inside, throwing my cap onto the back seat.

“Ready?” Kanda asked.

“Oh yeah,” I said, glad to be back in my uniform and raring to go.

Kanda grinned back at me as we sped into the night and towards the graveyard at St. Roseanne Church.

We drove in silence and I couldn’t help but think back to how I’d seen him smell the bloodstains on his sweatshirt. So to break the uncomfortable silence and to find out a little more about him, I said, “So what’s your story?”

“You tell me,” he grunted, looking straight ahead. “You’re the super sleuth,” and I caught him smirking.

“That’s the problem,” I mumbled. “You don’t give much away.”

“Work your magic,” he chuckled over the sound of the wiper blades.

“You’re not married,” I told him. “You don’t have a girlfriend and you live alone.”

“How can you know that?”

“No wedding ring for starters,” I smirked.

“But I could live with a girlfriend,” he said back.

“No, I don’t think so.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“You use cheap smelling soap and no aftershave, so you’re not trying to impress anyone. You hurriedly ate noodles before you left for work tonight, which suggests that you can’t cook and there isn’t anyone cooking for you, so therefore you live alone. 

“The sweatshirt you lent me today hasn’t been washed since you last had a haircut, which I’m guessing was about four years ago by its current length, which again suggests that you’re a typical bloke fending for himself and only having to do a wash when you really need to. 

“You haven’t had a female on your bike  in the last six months. So everything added together, tells me that you’re single and you live alone,” I told him.

Kanda frowned at me and said, “Che. I can see the logic in your deductions. But how did you know what I had for my dinner, that I hadn’t washed my sweatshirt since my last haircut, and the fact that I haven’t had a female in my car for over six months?”

Looking out of the passenger window and into the dark, I smiled to myself and said, 

“You have shrimp bits and parsley on your collar and some down the front of your trousers, which weren't there last night. 

“When you lent me your sweatshirt earlier, I noticed that around the neck there were hair clippings,  which tells me that you were wearing it the last time you went to the barber, and as the hairs are still there, you couldn’t have washed it. As for the bike thing? 

“There is an oily-black thumb print on the right rear-view mirror in your car, probably left by the mechanic who last serviced it. If you’d had a woman on there, she would’ve wiped it off so as to check her make-up from time to time. Bikes make mascara smudge, and blush and foundation might rub off evertime she pressed her face on you.

“In the foot-well of your side-car, along with a load of other rubbish, I noticed a receipt from the garage where you last had your bike serviced that was dated six months ago.”

“Damn, you’re a freak, moyashi!” he smirked. “I’m going to have to be careful around you.

Looking at him, I grinned, “Why? Have you got something worth hiding?”

Before he could reply, Kanda was slowing the car. “We’re here,” he said.

Looking through the windscreen, I could just make out the tall steeple of a church set back from the road in the middle of a graveyard. 

Tall leafless trees wrenched back and forth in the wind, like dark twisted limbs. Just looking at the place gave me the creeps and gooseflesh covered my back and arms.

Grabbing my cap from the back seat, I climbed from the car and out into the driving rain and howling wind. The graveyard was surrounded by an ancient-looking stone wall. 

Kanda led me around it, and he bent forward against the wind. Reaching an old weather-beaten gate set into the wall, Kanda shoved it open and we made our way through the gravestones to the front of the church. 

The wind was bitterly cold, and the rain jabbed at my face like needle points.

Then without warning, someone stepped from the shadows of the church and said, “Rather inclement weather we’re having.”

Without being able to stop myself, I jumped into a fighting stance at the sudden appearance of the figure.

“I’m sorry my child. I didn’t mean to scare you,” the man said. On his head, the stranger medium length black hair with gray bangs framing the right side of his face, and rain ran from it in constant rivulets. I relaxed my stance and took in the rest of the stranger.

His face was thin and gaunt-looking as if he were sucking in his cheeks. His eyes were bright and keen and they almost seemed to twinkle in the darkness. 

His lips were thin and twisted upwards in a grim looking smile. Beneath the upturned lapels of his long black coat, I noticed the white markings of his priest’s collar.

“Good evening...Father,” Kanda said, with an air of begrudged respect.

“Good evening Constable Kanda. I’m so very glad that you and…?” he looked at me and gave that grim smile again.

“Constable Walker,” I shouted over the roaring wind.

“Constable Walker,” he said, and his eyes twinkled again as he looked me up and down. “Very good.”

“Sergeant Komui said that you’d left a message, another grave had been disturbed?’”

Nodding his head and leading us towards the back of the graveyard, he said, “Yes, sadly so, constable. God rest the poor soul. Only fifteen-years-old was poor Mimi. It doesn’t seem more than a few weeks ago that I was baptising her as a baby.”

Leading us further away from the church and into the darkest corner of the graveyard, I pulled my torch from my belt and switched it on. 

Weaving the beam of light before me, I could see rows and rows of gravestones, stretching out in every direction. 

Some lent to one side, others looked smashed or broken. The inscriptions on some had either worn away or had been covered by moss.

“This way,” Father Krory said, leading us towards a tall tree that twisted up into the night sky like a giant ogre. As we grew near, Kanda switched on his torch, and with both our beams of light, I could see a mound of disturbed earth ahead of us. 

With my heart racing in my chest, and my stomach tightening, we made our way towards it. Once we were a few feet from the broken and disrupted soil, Father Krory stopped.

“What’s wrong Father?” Kanda asked.

Crossing himself, he looked at us from beneath his gray fringe and said, “I can’t go on, Constable. There is evil at work here tonight.” And he crossed himself again.

“Evil?” I prompted him.

Ignoring me, Father Krory spoke to Kanda again and said, ”I’d be better served back in my church, praying for the soul of that poor girl,” then looking at the both of us he said, “I shall pray for you too.”

Without another word, the priest turned and hurried back off into the night and towards the church, which loomed like a shadow in the distance.

“I guess we go on alone,” Kanda said searching me with his eyes.

I stared evenly back at him.

“Can you go on?” he demanded.

“Don’t concern yourself about me,” I frowned, trying to mask my nerves. “I’ll be just fine,” I added, brushing past him.

Reaching the grave, I shone my torch into the hole in the ground. Kanda came to stand beside me. The rain made a drumming sound against what was left of the coffin lid, which was splintered and ripped open.    


Crouching down to get a better look, I could see that the coffin was empty – the body of Mimi had been taken. A putrid stench wafted out of the hole, and I covered my nose and mouth with my free hand.

“What can you see?” Kanda asked, kneeling beside me.

“Not a lot,” I said, shining my torch over the sides of the hole and the ground surrounding it. Then placing the end of the torch between my teeth, I swung my legs over the side of the grave.

“What the hell are you doing?” Kanda asked, gripping my shoulder.

Taking the torch out of my mouth, I said, “Getting a better look.”

“Are you insane?” he asked, rain running down his face like tears. “Can’t it wait till daylight?”

“Not in this weather,” I told him. “The rain will wash away any clues that might be left.” Then biting the end of the torch again, I scrambled into the open grave.

“Hang on!” Kanda shouted over the howling wind. But it was too late. I had slipped.

I landed with a thump on top of what was left of the coffin lid. Wiping rain from my eyes, I pulled back the lid and some of it came away in my hands. 

The coffin was lined with white silk, which was now wet and soiled. Maggots and spiders scurried away, frightened back into the darkness by the light from my torch.

Inside the coffin, I found a small toy bear, obviously buried with the girl by the orphanage. Her favourite toy to accompany her on her journey to wherever it was she was going. 

Steadying myself in the slippery mud, I placed a hand against the side of the hole and bent forward. There was something glistening in the corner of the coffin. 

Balancing on the broken coffin lid, I reached down and picked up whatever it was. Holding it up in the torchlight, I could see that it was a set of rosary beads. 

Placing them back where I’d found them, I pulled away part of the coffin lid and turned it over in my hands. In doing so, I saw something that almost stopped my heart and made my blood run cold.

The underside of the coffin lid was covered in claw marks. There were no marks on the top like there should have been if someone had broken into the coffin. But to my horror and disbelief they were underneath. 

The lid was covered with them and however improbable, the only conclusion that I could come up with was that Mimi had been buried alive and she had raked and clawed at the underside of the coffin lid as she tried to get out. 

Dropping the piece of wood, I shone my torch around the walls of the grave and could see similar claw marks in the earth, as if she had scrambled out.

Numb with shock at what I’d discovered, I looked up at the hole above me.

“Kanda, you won’t believe this!” I shouted.

No answer, just the sound of the rain thumping down at me and the wind screaming above.

“Kanda!” I called out, this time louder. “Kanda, are you there?”

No answer.

“Kanda, you wanker!” I yelled. And this time I detected a tremor of fear in my voice and I hated myself for it. Where could he be? Perhaps he had gone back to the car to get some evidence bags, so we could do the job properly for once?

Realising that he wasn’t coming back in a hurry and just wanting to be out of the grave, I switched off my torch, fastened it to my belt and started to scramble up the inside of the grave. 

The earth was wet and slippery and several times I lost my footing and slid back down on top of the coffin again.

“Kanda, goddammit,” I cursed under my breath, and started to climb again. As I neared the top, I saw a shadow of what looked like a person flit past the opening above me.

“At last!” I muttered. “About time you came back!” I shouted, pulling myself from the hole. I was filthy. I had wet mud all over my hands, down the front of my jacket and trousers, and my boots were caked with the stuff. 

Turning around, expecting to see Kanda, I jumped with such a start, that I nearly toppled back into the grave. Standing just a few feet away from me was a teenage girl.

Fumbling for my torch, I yanked it from my belt and shone it at her. Immediately, the girl threw her hands to her face and screeched as if in pain.

“I’m sorry,” I said, wanting to scream myself.

I looked at the girl and I could see that she wore a filthy-looking dress. I guessed that once it had been white; but it was now covered with earth and dirt. 

Her hair was long, dyed cotton-candy blue and matted in filthy clumps to the sides of her ashen face. Her fingernails had earth beneath them and her bare feet and ankles were splashed with mud.

“Are you okay?” I asked her. I know that was a dumb question but I couldn’t think of anything else to say.

“Mummy,” she said. “Where’s my mummy?” and her voice sounded high and hollow.

Starting to back away, I reached for my radio, wanting to call for Kanda.

The girl came towards me, her steps long and slow.

“Mimi?” I said, fumbling for my radio. “You are Mimi, aren’t you?”

“I want my mummy,” she said again. “I’m hungry.” And she sniffed the air and licked her lips with a dry-looking tongue.

“I’ll find your mummy for you,” I told her, leaning my head towards the radio.

Sensing that I was going to call for help, she reached for my radio with one filthy hand, and I could see that her fingers were long – more like claws. Stumbling backwards, I yelled into my radio, “Kanda if you’re receiving this, I need backup right now!”

The radio crackled and hissed, and the girl covered her ears and screamed as if the noise was unbearable. Then over the sound of the wind and the rain, I heard a tearing noise. It sounded wet and moist. The girl jerked backwards and her back arched. Rolling her head back on her shoulders, she opened her mouth and screeched as if in agony.

Her whole being seemed to ripple and contort in front of me, like her flesh was being ripped from her bone, and I shouted into my radio again.

“Kanda! Kanda! I need urgent assistance right now!”

Again there was only static.

The girl lowered her head and looked at me. Her eyes glowed like hot coals as if they were on fire. 

She opened her mouth and her two front incisors were now long and razor-sharp. She came towards me, and for a moment, I seemed unable to move, captivated by her frightening beauty.

All the while she moved towards me, working her way between the gravestones, her hair now bellowing in the wind. The girl rolled her shoulders back as if shrugging and I could hear her bones twisting and stretching beneath her skin. 

The sound of it shook me from my trance. Focusing on the creature that was approaching me, every survival instinct that I had was screaming at me to run!

Spinning round, I raced as fast as I could away from the girl. My legs felt like jelly, and I willed them not to buckle beneath me and send me crashing to the ground. 

Weaving my way between the rugged gravestones, white plumes of breath blew from my nose and mouth and disappeared into the cold, black night. 

From behind me, I could hear the sound of feet fast approaching. Not being able to help myself, I glanced back over my shoulder to see the girl within reaching distance of me. She pounced into the air.

Dropping to the ground, I rolled over onto my back to see the creature go soaring over me. Realising that she had missed, the girl landed and came rushing back. 

She moved at an incredible speed, her hair bellowing out behind her like a mane. Mimi’s hands resembled talons, as she grabbed for me. Taking a deep breath, I rolled away, her claws snagging at my jacket. 

Not looking back again, I got to my feet and ran towards the gate in the wall. With my heart feeling as if it were going to burst in my chest, and my arms working like pistons by my sides, I ran for my life.

Reaching the gate, I yanked it open. Sliding over the bonnet of the police car, I pulled open the door and climbed into the driver’s seat. Hitting the automatic lock with my fist, I screamed into my radio one last time.

“Kanda! Kanda! I need urgent assistance. Please help me!”

Static.

Finding the key swinging in the ignition, I turned it and the car rumbled into life. Gripping the steering wheel, I looked ahead to see the girl pouncing out of the night sky straight towards the windscreen. 

Throwing the car into reverse, I started to back down the narrow lane. But she was too quick. Within an instance, the creature had slammed into the windscreen. Cracks started to appear in the glass and they spread across it like a spider’s web. 

Punching her long talon-like fingers into the bonnet of the police car, they cut through the metal like it was made of cardboard. Then throwing her head back, she smashed it repeatedly into the already cracked windscreen. It broke, showering me in splinters of glass.

“Piss off, arsehole!” I screamed at her, throwing the gear stick into drive. The creature shot forward, her head coming through the hole in the glass, razor-sharp teeth snapping just inches from my face. Foamy spit flew from them and spattered onto me. 

Slamming down on the brake, the girl flew backwards off the car and crashed into the stone wall that circled the graveyard. I shot forward too, my face smashing into the steering wheel. My nose started to gush blood and I could feel it hot and sticky as it ran over my lips and off my chin.

With my head pounding, I looked up to see the creature lying stunned on the ground against the wall. Stamping on the accelerator, I shot the car forward, my plan to crush her against the wall with the front of the police car. 

But just before striking her, she looked up, saw the danger that she was in and sprang away into the dark. With no time to react, the front of the police car crumpled against the wall, and again I shot forward in my seat. 

Sticking out my arms, I managed to absorb much of the impact. Screaming in pain, I heard a thud as something landed on top of the car.

Looking up, I could see the roof begin to buckle inwards as the creature pounded her claws into the top of it. Dazed and confused, I tried to focus as I searched for the emergency lights and sirens. 

Finding the right switch, I punched it and the night lit up in strobes of luminous blue and red. The sirens started and above them, I heard the sound of screaming. Twisting in my seat, I looked out of the window and upwards, to see the creature, her claws pressed against her ears.

Seizing the moment, I threw the car into reverse again and could have yelled in joy, as despite the damage to the car, it rumbled into life and started to roll backwards. 

With one hand on the wheel, and looking back over my shoulder, I tried to call for help again.“Kanda! Kanda!” I shrieked into my radio. “If you can hear me, please, I need help!’”

Static.

With the night sky throbbing blue and red and the whoop! whoop! sound of the sirens breaking apart its silence, I raced the car backwards, the monster wailing and banging above me. 

I found a gap in the road and spun the car around so it was facing away from the church and back towards town. I pressed as hard as I could on the accelerator. 

Blood continued to gush from my nose and it tasted coppery in my mouth. With the back of my sleeve, I wiped it away, and as I did, I saw Mimi scrambling from the roof of the car and onto the hood. 

With her eyes burning red and her mouth wide open in a scream, she launched herself at me through the broken windscreen. Losing control of the car, it crashed into a ditch, stopping dead in its tracks, lifting me from my seat and bashing my head against the roof. 

Everything started to turn black, and I fought to stay conscious, knowing that if I didn’t, I would be dead. Climbing onto the crumpled bonnet, the girl crawled towards me.

“Bugger off you twat!!,” I cried, reaching for my Taser. Then, at the very last moment, changing my mind, I stuck my hand inside my jacket.

“Hungry,” the girl hissed, climbing into the car via the broken windscreen. Licking her lips with a bright red tongue, spit swung from her jagged teeth.

I looked into her eyes, and they seemed ablaze, as if her brain were on fire.

“Hungry!” she screeched, lunging forward.

“Suck on this!” I screamed and stabbed the tiny silver crucifix into her tongue. Almost at once, the girls eyes grew fat and wide and the brightness within them seemed to fade. 

Throwing her hands to her mouth, she gagged as if choking on glass. White foam began to ooze through her fingers, her mouth frothing like a rabid dog. Shrinking back from me, Mimi slid down the bonnet as if being dragged by her ankles. 

Screaming, a gush of milky-looking liquid shot from her mouth. It splattered over the bonnet of the car, blistering the paint. Covering my eyes with my arm, I watched as she shot backwards into the sky, disintegrating in an explosion of ash and dust.

Sensing that the danger was over, I lent back in my seat. My chest was pumping up and down as I tried to gasp in air. Every part of me trembled, adrenaline racing through my body. 

Then, just when I thought it was all over, I heard the sound of footsteps racing towards the car. Glancing into the wing mirror, I could see a pair of black booted feet coming towards me. 

With trembling fingers, I reached for my Taser, but as everything around me started to fade, and I lost consciousness. The last thing I saw was Kanda’s stony face looking in at me through the shattered car window.

When I woke, it was dark. I was lying on something soft. Although I felt disorientated and confused, I knew that someone was close. “Who’s there?” I asked, my voice sounding croaky.

“Kanda,” he growled.

“Where am I?’”

“Your room.”

My head hurt and my face felt bruised. “Am I okay?” I asked, feeling drowsy.

“You’ll live,” he sighed from the darkness. “Just some cuts and bruises. You were in a nasty car crash.”

“No” I mumbled, consciousness fading again. “There was a vamp -”

“Shhh,” he said, moving away. “We’ll talk about it tomorrow.”

“Don’t go,” I whispered.

“What?”

“Stay...,” I said.

“Why?” he asked, coming back towards me in the dark.

“Not alone... bad alone...,” I told him.

  
Then with just a click of his tongue, there was a weight on the bed next to me. Wrapping my arms around myself and resting my forehead against the warmth , I slipped back into full unconsciousness.


	8. New World?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shuddering, I remembered how I had stabbed the crucifix into her tongue, then watched her explode in a pile of dust.  
> Hobbling to the bathroom, I knelt over the toilet and heaved. Once I’d been sick, I leant against the bath. What was happening to me? What was happening in Noah’s Innocence? The town seemed to exist in its own little universe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a short ass chapter, sorry. Don't worry though, your'e getting two chapters today! This is just a recap chapter since its been quite some time since I updated this story. 
> 
> I know you probably don't care but I just graduated Highschool and sent in the documentation for approval of me renegotiating my military contract for the MOS I really wanted. Since I've suddenly got time on my hands, some fics have sprouted out of my brain faster than they usually do.

It was early morning when I awoke. Dull grey sunlight seeped in through my window, making my room look like an old black and white photograph. 

My head felt sore, as did my nose, and my mouth felt as if I’d been sucking on sandpaper all night. I was lying on top of my bed in just a T-shirt and knickers and I wondered how I’d gotten here and who had undressed me. 

Then I remembered Kanda had been in my room last night and a vague image of me holding him came flooding back. Blushing, I pulled the blankets over me and called out his name. I couldn’t see him, but the bathroom door was closed and I wondered if he might be in there.

Getting no reply, I swung my legs over the side of the bed, and winced at the pain inside my head. In fact, my whole body ached and throbbed and I felt as if I’d been in a car wreck; then I remembered, technically, I was.

The memories of what had taken place the night before came rushing back, like a punch in the face. I could remember everything, like a waking nightmare. 

Climbing into the open grave, finding the scratch marks on the underside of the coffin lid, Kanda disappearing and not answering my calls on the radio, the girl, Mimi, l turning into a vampire-zombie thing and chasing after me as I tried to escape in the police car. 

Shuddering, I remembered how I had stabbed the crucifix into her tongue, then watched her explode in a pile of dust.

Had all of that really happened? In my head, I tried to tell myself that it couldn’t have, but in my heart I knew that it had, and the realisation made me want to throw up. 

Hobbling to the bathroom, I knelt over the toilet and heaved. Once I’d been sick, I leant against the bath. What was happening to me? What was happening in Noah’s Innocence?

Feeling bruised and battered and filthy, I turned on the water and started to fill the bath with hot water. Shuffling back into my room, I searched for my iPhone. Holding it up into the grey dawn light, I groaned pitifully at the sight of the red signal bar flashing on the screen.

“What is wrong with this place?” I hissed. “It’s like it’s shut off from the rest of the world.”

I desperately wanted to call Master Cross and tell him what had happened to me and what I’d seen. Whether he would believe me or not, I didn’t know. But I needed to let him know that all was not well in the sleepy town of Noah’s Innocence.

The town seemed to exist in its own little universe. None of the telephones worked, the police radios didn’t seem to transmit, and even my car radio didn’t want to pick up a signal. Realising that I hadn’t actually listened to any music since my radio went dead in my car two days ago, I took my iPhone with me into the bathroom.

Easing myself down into the water, I stretched out. Closing my eyes, I popped the earphones into my ears and turned on Spotify. Isolation by Crowded House, I did feel like I was now isolated, in the world I now found myself trapped in.

Closing my eyes, I turned the volume up and rested my head against the back of the bath. Over and over again the memories of what had happened the night before kept playing out in my mind. 

Could those murders have been committed by vampires? But weren’t they just in movies and books? If I hadn’t been attacked by one, then I would have said yes, but now I wasn’t so sure. 

Was the boy Timothy Hearst killed by them? But that sort of thing just didn’t happen. Like my father had been, I was only interested in facts. But I could remember him telling me that once you had studied all the evidence and had dismissed all the theories and rumours, whatever you were left with, however unlikely, was the truth.

Okay, so let’s just say that the murders and disappearances were the work of vampires, who were they? Did they live among the town’s folk by day and kill by night? Were they all gathered together in some secret location? And how many were there? Did they have any other strengths; and weaknesses?

With so many questions racing around my mind, my head began to hurt all over again. But there was one question that just wouldn’t go away: Where had Kanda disappeared to last night? Where had he been when I’d actually needed him?

Climbing from the bath, I toweled myself dry, brushed my teeth, and reapplied my makeup. Pulling on a pair of dark-blue jeans, and black button-up; I tied my hair into a low ponytail, and checked out the cuts and bruises on my face in the bathroom mirror. I had a green-blue bump on my temple, my top lip was split and I had a scrape just beneath my chin. What with the gash on my wrist, I hadn’t had so many cuts and bruises in such a short space of time, in a long time. Since I was a kid actually.

With my stomach aching for food, I decided to put Jerry to the test. A small breakfast just wouldn’t be enough. Opening the door to my room, I found another envelope tacked to it. As before, ‘Allen’ had been scrawled across the front. Pulling it free, I opened it to find another tiny silver crucifix. Looking at the envelope, I could see that it had been left in the last couple of minutes or so. 

Yanking the door closed behind me, I ran down the stairs, through the lobby, and out into the road. I looked left, and then right but the road in both directions was deserted. Although I knew he had left the envelope only moments before I’d discovered it, what I didn’t know, was how he knew I needed another crucifix.


	9. Guardian Angel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Master Cross,   
> I believe I’m in great danger in Noah's Innocence. I don’t want to leave my post, but please come. Your help and advice are urgently needed. I would like to consult with you.   
> -Allen Walker."  
> \----------------------------------------  
> "Sorry, didn’t mean to hurt you yesterday. There is more danger to come, be careful.  
> -LBJ"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is the second update today! I'm still fine tunning this story so if you see something strange, speak out! The letters/notes were really hard to do on my phone and when I transfered it over to the website from my PC the font and seperation changed dramatically. Nothing was where it was supposed to be, and the story looked cluttered.

Taking a seat at one of the tables in the small dining area of the Inn, Hevlaska glided her way around the nests of tables and chairs.

“Looks like...you’ve been in a...fight,” she said, eyeing the cuts on my face.

“I’m okay,” I said, forcing a smile. I silently thanked the gods for my make-up prowess, it had covered up _so_ _many_ bruises today.

“It's a shame...,” the pale woman said, pouring me a mug of coffee.

“What's a shame?” I asked, tilting my head to the side a little.

“A pretty kid like you...being a cop...‘and all.”

“How’s that?” I asked, kind of flattered by her remark.

Then looking over her shoulder as if she was being spied on, she turned to me and whispered, “If you’re not careful, ...you’ll end up dead … or worse.”

“What could be worse than being dead?” I asked her, sipping the coffee.

“One of the living-dead,” she whispered, and her voice sounded dry and out of tune.

Looking into her cloudy milky-blue eyes, I was just about to ask her to tell me more, when Jerry appeared in the doorway that led from the dining area and into the kitchen.

“Hevlaska!” he whined, and the ghost-like woman seemed to flinch at the sound of his voice. “How many times have I asked you not to go upsetting the guests with your... _stories_ ?”

Before turning to face her dark-skinned _brother_ , the pale woman slipped her hand into her apron, removed something, and gave it to me. Then winking, she whispered, ”That’s on the house.” Before I had a chance to say anything, she had glided away.

Uncurling my fingers, I could see that she had slipped me one of the tiny bottles of holy water that I’d seen the previous day.

Hiding it beneath the table, I watched Jerry come towards me. His lean face looked hot and tired. “I’m sorry about that,” he gushed. “She doesn’t know when to stop talking.”

“It’s okay,” I assured him, with a smile.

“What can I fix you up with, darlin'?” he asked, fiddling with the frills on his white apron. Although I felt a little flirtatious at the sight of his nervous habit, my stomach continued to impatiently rumble.

“Oatmeal, two pieces of toast, turkey bacon and eggs would be good,” I purred, with a wink.

“Full breakfast it is,” he giggled, turning away.

As he strutted back across the diner, I called after him, “I don’t suppose you’ve se en a suspicious  hanging around here this morning?”

Turning to face me, Jerry frowned, “I don’t think so. What did he look like?”

“I don’t really know,” I told him. “He was wearing a hoodie so it was kind of hard to see his face.”

“Haven’t seen anyone like that,” he said. “What did he do?”

Taking the envelope from my pocket, I held it up so he could see it. Looking at him with lowered eyelids, head resting g on my wrist, I sighed, “He left this tacked to my door about five minutes ago.”

“How do you know it was in the last five minutes? It could’ve been left at anytime.” he said.

“The seal is still damp from where he licked it,” I told him with a smirk.

“Oh,” said the dark muscled man, as he shrugged his shoulders with a smile.

“Don’t suppose you have any CCTV do you?” I asked suddenly.

“CC what?” he asked, looking really confused.

“Never mind,” I called out to him happily and drank my coffee.

Despite Jerry’s nervous habits, the meal was wonderful. The oatmeal was perfection topped off with cinnamon shavings, the toast was nice and light-golden in color, the bacon was crispy but not too greasy and the scrambled eggs were light and fluffy.

After breakfast, I wrapped myself up to stay warm and drove my car into town. I wanted to get a better feel of my surroundings and pop into the police station to speak with Sergeant Komui about what had happened the previous night.

The day was cold and bitter, but the rain had stopped at last. The sky looked like a layer of bruised skin, as dark purple clouds covered the sun. Turning on the car’s heater, I warmed myself as I navigated the narrow, winding roads.

As I reached town, I couldn’t help but notice that the streets and shops were pretty much deserted. I only passed a handful of people, their heads down, as if too scared to make eye contact with anyone.

Parking my car in front of a small Post Office, I walked the length of the small high street towards the police station. There was a tea shop, and a couple of old people gathered around a table inside.

I passed a shop that sold walking and hiking equipment, but a CLOSED sign hung in the window and the lights were out. There was a fishmonger, butchers, and grocery store, but none of them seemed very busy, and again I wondered how these little shops made any money.

Turning off the main road, I made my way up a small cobbled side road towards the police station. Reaching it, I pushed against the door and was surprised to find that it was locked. Standing on tiptoe, I peered through the small front window. The station was in darkness. Biting my lower lip, I wondered why the station wasn’t open. Didn’t they have a day shift on duty?

“You won’t find anyone on duty at this time of day,” someone said from behind me.

Spinning round, I found an elderly gentleman walking his dog. The black-coloured Labrador was taking a leak up a nearby lamppost.

“What did you say?” I asked the man.

“They only seem to work at night,” the man said. He looked as if he were in his mid-sixties. He was on the scrawny side, with a wrinkled face and short, white beard. His eyes were a piercing blue. On his head he wore a flat cap, and in his hand he carried a cane, which had a distinctive silver top. He wore a green wax coat, tweed trousers, and a worn pair of hiking boots.

Without even knowing that I was doing it, I could tell he was a heavy smoker, he liked a good drink, and he wore glasses to read. At some time in his life, he had been a military man and had served in the parachute regiment. He was returning from a walk along the beach, not the woods, and he was going to have sausages for his dinner, some of which he would probably share with his dog – not with his wife – she was dead and had died recently.

“Don’t you know it’s rude to stare?” the elderly gentleman snapped.

“I’m sorry,” I said, but I couldn’t help notice the dark brown nicotine stains on the first two fingers of his right hand, the deep red capillary veins on his cheeks, the pinch marks on either side of the bridge of his nose left by his glasses, the winged crest of the parachute regiment pin attached to the lapel of his jacket, the sand covering the tips of his boots, cane and the paws of his dog, the pack of sausages protruding from his coat pocket, the black armband strapped around his left forearm, and the wedding ring still on his finger.

Sometimes I wished I didn’t have to see all these things. Why couldn’t I just look at someone like any ordinary person would? My father called it a ‘gift’ but I often thought of it as a curse. Sometimes my head felt like it was going to burst with all the information that my eyes absorbed.

“Like I said young lad, you won’t find any police on duty at this time of day,” the old man said. “If you want to report a crime, come back then.”

“Okay, thanks,” I said.

“Visiting are you?” he asked, and eyed me with suspicion. “You’re not a reporter, are you?”

“Why would I be a reporter?” I said, feeling bemused.

“Come to spread lies about what’s been going on in the town?” he said.

“‘What’s been going on?” I asked.

“Well if you don’t know, then let’s keep it like that,” he said, and whistled for his dog to catch up with him. “What you don’t know can’t hurt ya.”

He whistled again, but his dog seemed reluctant to come towards us. ”C’mon you daft thing!” the man spat.

The dog cowered by the lamppost and made a whining noise in the back of its throat. “Come here I’m telling ya!” the man ordered his dog. But again it whined, like it was scared of something.

“What’s got into ya?” he asked, walking back towards the animal.

Taking hold of the dog by its collar, he dragged it towards the police station. As they got near, the dog began to bark and howl. I watched the man struggle with his pet, as it dug its claws into the street, not wanting to come too close to the police station.

“Stop messing about, you stupid thing,” the old man shouted and slapped the dog’s hind quarters. Again, the dog howled as it was dragged nearer to the station. Then, as the old man succeeded in drawing the dog level with me, it started to snarl. It's lips rolled back from its teeth in anger – or was it fear? Looking back at the empty building, I could only wonder what had upset the animal so much.

With a struggle, the old man managed to get his dog past the station and almost at once the dog seemed to calm down. Looking back at me, the old man said, “So long, pretty boy. Whatever your business in Noah's Innocence is, leave as soon as you can.” Then releasing his dog, he followed it away and out of sight.

Pushing against the door of the police station one more time, I made my way back to my car. Sitting behind the wheel and strumming my fingers on the dashboard, I thought about what the old man had said.

Why weren’t there any police officers on duty during the day in Noah's Innocence? Then, realising I knew very little about my colleagues, I wondered where they went, where they lived, and what they did in such a small town when not on duty.

Outside the Post Office, I noticed a public telephone box and it gave me an idea. Climbing from my car, I went to the phone box and yanked open the rusty red door. I lifted the receiver and wasn’t surprised to find the line was dead. But it wasn’t the telephone I wanted, it was the telephone directory.

Taking it from beneath the phone, I thumbed through it until I got to the letter ‘L’. How many Lee's could there be in such a small town as this? Running my finger down the list, I couldn’t find one Lee listed. I then looked under ‘W’ for Wenham, but again there wasn’t anyone with that surname living in town. Drawing a deep breath, I turned to the letter ‘K’ and just like the others, there wasn’t anyone with the name Kanda listed either.

Stepping out of the phone box, I went into the Post Office. By the door, there was a stand that contained postcards. Taking the first one that came to hand – I really didn’t care what picture was on the front – I wrote this message.

* * *

  
_Master Cross,_ _  
_ _  
_ _I believe I’m in great danger in Noah's Innocence. I don’t want to leave my post, but please come. ~~Your help and advice are urgently needed.~~ I would like to consult with you. _ _  
_   
_-Allen Walker_

* * *

I quickly scribbled the address of Police Headquarters onto the card and bought a stamp from the stern postmistress. Taking it from me, she placed it into a sack that hung on the wall behind her.

Leaving the Post Office, I went back to my car and drove away. As it was still early, I decided to go back to the church. I wanted to examine the open grave in daylight, I needed to know if there was anything that I’d missed and anything that might lead me to the vampires, if that’s what Mimi had really transformed into.

Not only that, I wanted to have my facts straight for when I returned for my nightshift. I suspected that Sergeant Komui would want a full account of what had happened.

Following the winding roads out of town, I managed to find my way back to the church. Parking just down the road from the front gate that led into the graveyard, I climbed from the car. The day had turned freezing cold, and I thrust my hands into my coat pockets. My fingers brushed against the bottle of holy water and the crucifix, and I hoped I wouldn’t have to use them again so soon.

As I approached the wall circling the graveyard, I could see flecks of white paint where I’d crashed the car. The gate wailed on its rusty hinges as I made my way into the graveyard. I weaved through the gravestones and although it was day, it took nothing away from the creepiness of the place. As I made my way deeper into the graveyard and towards the overhang of the trees in the corner, I could see two people standing by the desecrated grave that I’d climbed into the night before.

Crouching, I ducked behind a gravestone and peered into the distance. One of them was the priest, Father Krory, and the other I couldn’t quite see. Darting from my cover, I raced towards another gravestone and snuck behind it. From here, I had a better view of the second person.

Looking at them, my stomach began to knot and my mouth turned dry, realising Father Krory was deep in conversation with the hooded man who’d been following me and leaving crucifixes outside my bedroom door.

Shifting my position behind the grave, I strained to see his face beneath that hoodie. But however much I tried, it was dark beneath the trees, and the overcast sky only made it more difficult to see him. I was too far away to hear what they were saying to one another. From my hiding place, I watched them talk. Several times the hooded man pointed into the open grave.

After only a few minutes of spying on them, they shook hands, and Father Krory walked away. And as he did, I noticed that he was limping. He hadn’t done so the night before, I was sure of it, I would have seen it.

Making myself as small as possible, the priest walked right past me on the other side of the gravestone that I was crouching behind. I watched him go back towards the church. Turning back to spy on the hooded male, I watched him kneel down and carry on some kind of an inspection of the earth around the open grave. Taking a small bag from his jacket pocket, he scooped up some of the earth and placed it inside the bag.

As I watched, part of me wanted to sneak up on him, pull back his hood and find out his identity. But what if he saw me? I’d already had a confrontation with him and come off worse for it. So I decided to wait for him to finish whatever it was that he was doing, then follow him.

After all, he knew where he could find me and it would be nice to be on equal terms. I didn’t have to wait long before he turned away from the open grave and started back across the graveyard.

Peering over the top of the grave, I watched him go to the front of the church, where he disappeared from view. Scrambling to my feet, I darted amongst the gravestones, desperate to catch up with him.

As I neared the front of the church, I saw the male speed out from the other side on his bike and cycle down the path to the gate. On reaching it, he lent forward, pulled it open and maneuvered through it and was gone.

Then a thought hit me and I froze. To get back down the road, he would have to cycle past my car. He would know that it was mine – how many other beat-up old burgundy Mini’s were there in the town?

Keeping as low as possible, I made my way towards the wall. Peeking over it, I could just make out my car parked further down the road next to the bushes. I couldn’t see the cyclist. Passing through the gate, I made my way towards my car. Once I was sure that he wasn’t nearby, I ran towards it, wanting to catch up, so I could follow him from afar and see where it was he was headed.

Climbing into my car, I started the engine, and turned the car onto the road. Hitting the accelerator, I drove back towards the town, scanning the road ahead for the cyclist. After a mile or so, I’d hoped that I would have seen him ahead of me, but it was like he had vanished.

Then glancing in my rear view mirror, I hit my brakes. He was tailing me on his bike. Not believing what I was seeing, I pulled over and stopped, but kept the engine running, just in case. I stared at him in the rearview mirror and waited for him to draw level with me, but he didn’t. Once he was within a hundred yards or so of my car, he stopped in the road.

Jumping from my car in frustration, I clenched my fists and shouted up the road at him, “What do you want from me?”

Again he said nothing, but just sat on his bike, staring at me from the shadows of his hood.

“Right, you chicken-shite,” I said under my breath. “I’ve had enough of your idea of fun and games.” Then climbing back into my car, I spun it around in the road and raced towards him. On seeing me coming, he took something white from his coat pocket, lent over on his bike and attached whatever it was onto a branch protruding from the bushes. Then swooping left on his bike, he cycled away and sped down a narrow lane set between two fields.

Pulling alongside the lane, I could see that it was far too narrow for me to drive my car down.

Thumping the steering wheel with my fist, I screamed in anger as I watched him disappear into the distance. Looking to my right, I tried to see what it was he had placed in the bushes. Climbing from my car, I went over to find that the male had skewered a folded piece of paper onto a branch. With the edges of the paper flapping in the breeze, I pulled it free. Unfolding the note, I read what was written upon it.

* * *

  
_Sorry, didn’t mean to hurt you yesterday. There is more danger to come, be careful._

_-LBJ_

* * *

I looked at the piece of paper and I knew that the cyclist had been aware of my presence in the graveyard the whole time. The piece of paper had been torn from a bigger piece.

In the far corner, I could just make out the word ‘Mary’s’, which suggested that he had taken it from a piece of headed note paper from St. Mary’s church. The only opportunity he would’ve had to write the message was while he’d gone to the church to collect his bike after leaving the graveyard.

And if he’d written the note then, he must have been aware of my presence in the graveyard. He then hid somewhere along the road and waited for me to pass him in my car.

Whoever he was, I was certain that he meant me no real harm. He’d had a couple of opportunities to do so. But who was he? And why did he have to behave as if he were some kind of guardian angel?

Tucking the note into my jeans pocket, I got back into my car and headed back towards the Inn. As I pulled-up out front, the first specks of snow flurried past on the wind. Hurrying to my room, I pulled the bedcovers over my head and tried to get some rest before my next _vampire shift_ began later that evening.


	10. Liars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. I’d done nothing wrong. Every word of my statement had been true.
> 
> This made my blood boil, and I could feel tears starting in my eyes. They had no right to treat me like this. 
> 
> “You make me laugh. You couldn’t solve a game of Cluedo, let alone a series of brutal killings,” I seethed.
> 
> Kanda stood beside my car, his black hair now looking white with snow. He knocked on the glass.
> 
> “Allen!” he grunted.
> 
> Wiping away my tears I hadn't noticed fall, with the back of my hand, I opened the window an inch and said through the gap, “What do you want?”
> 
> “What are you going to do?” he asked.
> 
> “I’m going home,” I glared at him and jammed the key in the ignition.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There was a bit of a hiatus there, huh? I got really excited about several other stories that formed in my head. A lot of my other shit got updated and I clarified my endgame.
> 
> This story was written in a style that does not come naturally to me, so it's a little blotchy here and there. You see a mistake let me know.
> 
> Comments are welcome.

I arrived at the police station just before seven.

While I’d slept the rest of the day away, it had continued to snow and was now coming down in thick flurries. The narrow streets of Noah's Innocence were covered with it, as were the fields that stretched out on either side of the country roads I’d taken to get to work.

Several times, the back wheels of my car had slipped and skidded and I’d had to be careful not to drive head first into some ditch. So it was with some relief that I arrived at the station without wrecking my second car in less than twenty-four hours.

Hurrying into the station and out of the snow, I found Sergeant Komui, Reever, and Kanda all sitting at their desks behind the front counter. It was as if they were waiting for me. Coming around the front counter, I glanced at Kanda and he held my gaze with his intense dark blue eyes. 

The last time I’d seen him, we had been curled up together on my bed in my room. I wondered how he felt about that. Kanda smirked and I looked away. Sometimes I found it hard to look at him, I could sense something between us, but I didn’t quite know  _ what _ . 

If I were to be honest with myself, I knew that I found his sharp androgynous looks attractive, but there was something else; I didn’t know what; that told me I should try and keep my distance.

“How are you feeling tonight, constable?” Sergeant Komui asked, and I noticed straight away that he hadn’t called me by my first name like he had before.

“A bit bruised and battered,” I grunted, placing my newly cleaned uniform and utility belt on the desk in front of me.

“Not as battered as the police car you wrecked last night,” Reever chipped in eagerly, puffing on a cigarette.

I glanced across at Kanda and noticed he was still staring at me. Ignoring Reever’s smart remark, I turned to face Sergeant Komui and said, “I don’t know if Kanda has already briefed you, but there was an incident last night up at the graveyard.”

Sipping from his giant mug slowly, Komui looked straight at me and raised an eyebrow questioningly, “I’d like to hear your account of what took place last night.”

“It’s difficult to explain without sounding...” I started.

“Without sounding like what?” Reever cut in, flicking his cigarette.

“Like I’d lost my bloody mind,” I finished, clenching my jaw in frustration.

“Tell them what happened,” Kanda demanded while staring hard at me. “You’re amongst friends here.”

Hearing this; I glanced between him and Reever, and wasn’t so sure. Turning away from him, I looked at my sergeant and slowly explained how I’d carried out an examination of the open grave.

“When I was down in the grave, I lifted up a piece of the coffin lid to find scratch marks on the underside of it,” I told him.

“So?” Reever said, putting out his cigarette and immediately lighting another.

“So,” I continued with a roll of my eyes, “it suggested to me only one explanation, and I know this sounds far-fetched, but Mimi must have been buried alive.”

“Buried alive!” Reever scoffed, gushing streams of smoke through his nostrils.

Raising his hand as if to silence Reever, Komui said, “Let's’ hear Constable Walker out before we comment.” Then locking eyes with me, he nodded, as if telling me to carry on.

“I also found claw marks on the inside of the grave, again supporting the theory that someone had climbed out rather than in,” I told them. “I tried to call to Kanda on my radio, but it seemed that he either didn’t receive my transmission or there wasn’t any signal. I climbed out of the grave to find Mimi standing there.”

“Oh this is just, such a load of old bollocks,” Reever cut in again.

“Be quiet, Reever!” Komui snapped, and he sounded as if he were getting angry. “Carry on, constable.”

“She looked pale, as if she were sick,” I said. “Not only that, she was covered in earth and mud. She asked for her mother. I asked her if I could help her, but she kept saying that she was hungry.” 

I stopped and again I looked at Kanda, who was staring at me, his eyes keen and sharp looking. I couldn’t tell if he believed me or not. I wanted to go on with my story, but it was so bizarre that I felt I risked my professional reputation before I’d even fully started on my career.

“Go on,” Komui said, sounding impatient.

Swallowing hard and staring at my shaking calloused hands, I whispered, “Then she started to change.”

“Change?” Reever laughed. “What’s that supposed to mean?’”

“I won’t tell you again, Reever,” Komui hissed. “Put a sock in it, or get out.”

Lighting another cigarette, Reever folded his arms across his chest and grinned at me.

Trying to ignore him, I carried on. “The girl began to wail as if in pain. Then I heard this awful sound. Her teeth looked as if they had grown.” Then closing my eyes, so I didn’t have to look at any of them, I added, “The girl had fangs.”

I heard a snigger come from the corner of the room and I didn’t have to open my eyes to know that it was Reever who was laughing at me.

“What happened next?” Sergeant Komui asked.

“I ran for my life, Sarge,” I said, opening my eyes and staring straight into his. “I didn’t know what else to do. I kept calling for Kanda over the radio, asking for help, but again I don’t think my messages were getting through."

"I managed to get to the police car, but the girl, or whatever it was, came after me. It smashed the windscreen with its face. I drove the car forward and the thing crashed into the graveyard wall. I drove the car at her, but…” I paused, hesitantly staring at my boots.

“But what?” Komui persisted.

“She escaped,” I said, as Reever stifled another fit of the giggles. 

“She leapt away at an incredible speed. I managed to turn the car as I tried to escape. I was injured and my nose was bleeding. As I drove away from the church, the vampire-thing attacked again. She was so fast and strong. She punched her fists through the bonnet as if it were made out of paper!”

“If she were so strong and powerful, how did you manage to survive?” Reever smirked.

“I had a crucifix on me, and as she tried to bite me, I stuck it into her mouth on a whim. It was almost as if she had swallowed poison. She started to convulse on the bonnet of the car. Her mouth started to foam up and it ate through the car’s paintwork like acid."

"Then before I knew what was happening, she exploded into a pile of ash and dust. Realising that the threat was over, I started to lose consciousness, and before I blacked out, I saw Kanda, peering in at me through the broken car window,” I finished pointedly not meeting what I assumed would be Komui’s disbelieving eyes.

“And?” Sergeant Komui asked me with narrowed eyes.

“That’s all, Sarge.” Then glancing quickly at Kanda, I added, “The next thing I was aware of was waking in my room this morning.”

Without saying a word, Sergeant Komui sucked down the contents of his giant coffee mug, not taking his eyes off me. After what seemed like an eternity, Komui said, “So that is your statement, Constable Walker?”

“Yes Sergeant,” I said, knowing that I had only told him what I believed to be the truth. 

“You don’t wish to change anything?” he asked. 

“No, Sergeant.” Standing up, again he was wearing jeans and slippers, he came towards me, his bunny slippers definitely slowing him down. 

‘‘I’d heard good things about you, Walker,” he said, and he sounded almost sad. “Excellent things in fact. I was led to believe that you were the most gifted recruit at training school. That’s why you were recommended for this difficult posting. I thought you would be an asset to this station – that you would be able to assist us in tracking down those responsible for the killings in Noah's Innocence.”

“But that’s...”, I started, but he spoke over me. “Instead, I’ve been sent nothing more than an immature fantasist, a know-it-all,” he barked.

“But...”

“In less than twenty-four hours, you’ve clambered over two crime scenes, destroyed evidence, recklessly destroyed police property, namely one of our only two police vehicles, and have now brought into question your own honesty and integrity by coming up with a pack of outright lies to excuse your unruly behaviour,” he said.

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. I’d done nothing wrong. Every word of my statement had been true. Not prepared to stand by and have my integrity questioned, I spoke up.

“Have you actually been up to the grave and examined it yourself?” I asked him.

“No, I sent our forensically-trained officer up there today to carry out a proper examination,” Komui said, and looked at Reever.

“What, him?” I asked, and now it was my turn to scoff. 

“Yes me!” Reever said. “Got a problem with that, Columbo?” 

“Well, if you’d examined it properly, you would’ve seen what I had,” I said. 

“Sure, I found the coffin lid, what was left of it after you’d trampled all over it,” he snipped. 

“And the scratch marks?” I asked. 

“There were scratch marks, but they’d been made by animals, foxes, rats, badgers, after the girl’s body had been removed,” he said.

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. “Are you being serious?” I said. “What about the footprints?”

“Well to be honest, after you had stomped all over it in your boots, it was hard to see anything. But after a careful and thorough examination, the only footprints I could find were yours and Kanda’s. So if this vampire-girl had chased you across the graveyard, I found no footprints, only yours,” he grinned at me.

“What of the damage to the car?” I asked him.

“What about it?”

“The broken windscreen?”

“By the state of your face tonight, it looks like you’re the one who smashed through it,” he said. “As for the scratches across the bonnet and sides of the car, it is my opinion that they were caused by your reckless driving as you scraped against the stone walls up at the church and the branches and thorns from the overgrown hedgerows.”

“What about the acid burns?” I asked testily.

“You’ve already admitted to driving the car straight into the wall up at the graveyard, and in doing so, you crushed the battery which ruptured and sprayed the bonnet with battery acid,” he smiled.

“I don’t believe this,” I groaned.

“No, we don’t believe you,” Sergeant Komui said. 

Turning to Kanda I said, “You were up there. You must have seen something?”

Looking at me, his eyes almost black, Kanda slowly shook his head and sighed, “Allen, all I saw was you driving away at a high speed from the church and crashing the car.”

“So you didn’t see the girl?” I asked, desperately.

“Allen, I didn’t see any girl,” he said gruffly. “As soon as I saw you racing away in the police car, I came running after you.”

I glanced down at his trousers and knew that he was lying. Knowing that whatever I said wouldn’t be believed, I glared at Sergeant Komui. “So what happens now?”

“You go back to headquarters,” he said matter of factly. “I don’t have room for a liar in my station.”

“But…” I began.

“Don’t worry about your precious record, I’ll tell them that you were homesick, the climate down here didn’t agree with you. I won’t drop you in the shit. I’m not that kind of bloke.”

Hearing this made my blood boil, and I could feel tears standing in my eyes. They had no right to treat me like this. Clenching my fists by my side, I took a deep breath and then let loose. 

“You make me laugh. You couldn’t solve a game of Cluedo, let alone a series of brutal killings,” I seethed. 

“For the last few years, you’ve had people go missing, graves desecrated, over twenty brutal murders, a string of police officers have disappeared off the face of the Earth, and _you_ have the nerve to stand there and tell _me_ I’m no good at _my_ job!”

“Hang on a minute!” Reever shouted coming forward.

“Let him say his piece,” Komui said calmly. “Because when he’s finished, he’s out of here.”

“You accuse me of destroying crime scenes, when you let that cretin stand and smoke over the mutilated body of an eight-year-old child. And as for you,” I said, looking Komui up and down. 

“You’re the most unprofessional sergeant I’ve ever come across. You’re meant to be representing the police service and you lounge around the office in jeans and slippers, with a coffee dripping from your mouth."

"As for calling Force Headquarters, go on, I dare you. Or perhaps you haven’t noticed that none of the telephones work in this godforsaken place. Nothing works! The shops hardly ever open, the streets are pretty much deserted and you can only speak with a police officer at night!”

“What’s the point in being on duty during the day, when most of the crime in this town happens at night?” Reever cut in. “That’s just good police work.”

“Good police work!” I laughed at him. “I haven’t actually seen you do any police work since I arrived. If your idea of good police work is smoking yourself to death in this office, then you’re very good at it. Very good, indeed”

Then pausing to draw breath, someone cut in and growled, “Are you finished, constable?”

Spinning around to see who had spoken, I was shocked to find a tall, muscular man standing in the corner by the passageway that led to the cells. 

He hadn’t come in via the front entrance and I knew from the tour Kanda had given me the night before that there was no other way into the station.

The man was about six-foot-four, with wild-spiked black hair that jaggedly shot down his balding forehead. He looked as if he were in his early fifties but was in very good shape. 

I could tell by his tanned and dry looking skin he had recently come back from his holidays, which had been spent in a hot climate. He had strong, muscular hands. 

His thumbs were looped through his belt loops. He wore a police uniform, and by the three silver pips on each shoulder, I knew that he was a chief inspector.

“I said, are you finished constable?” he asked me again, and his blank white eyes bored straight into mine. This man had no irises!

“Yes, Sir,” I said.

“Then let me introduce myself. I’m Chief Inspector  Winters Sokaro . And this station and its officers are under my command,” he said in a low, grim-sounding voice. 

“If you feel that you have a complaint on how my officers perform then feel free to raise your concerns with me.” 

Then coming forward, his face never leaving my direction, he stood before me and whispered vehemently, “But one thing I do know, is that I don’t need some snot-nosed _poof_ coming into my kingdom and telling me how to run things. Got it?”

Glaring up at him, I growled, “Yes sir, I understand.”

“Now go pick up your uniform, leave this station, and don’t ever come back,” he grinned menacingly. 

“Tomorrow morning you go back to force headquarters where you will be assigned a new posting. And believe me when I tell you that the report I will be sending about you, won’t be as  _ sweet  _ as Sergeant Komui’s. Now get out of my sight.”

"Just so we're clear sir, I _will_ write up this entire post the minute I return home. Good bye, and **piss off**."

Feeling as if I’d been kicked in the guts, I snatched up my jacket and made my way around the front desk and left the station. As I went, I couldn’t help but notice they were all staring at me, Kanda included. 

Stepping out into the cold, flakes of snow stung my face and covered my hair and shoulders. Climbing into my car and slamming the door shut, I punched my dashboard and screamed in frustration. 

Jumping, I looked up as someone appeared at the window. Kanda stood beside my car, his black hair now looking white with snow. He knocked on the glass.

“Allen!” he grunted.

Wiping away my tears I hadn't noticed fall, with the back of my hand, I opened the window an inch and said through the gap, “What do you want?”

“What are you going to do?” he asked.

“I’m going home,” I glared at him and jammed the key in the ignition.

“I’ll come up to the Inn and see you before you go,” he said matter of factly.

“Don’t bother. I won’t be there.”

“Why?”

“I’m going home now,” I told him. Then glaring through the gap in the window at him, I said, “You know what Kanda? I thought we were friends. I thought… I mean, you stayed with me last night.”

“I am your... friend,” he whispered, blinking snow out of his eyes so he could see me.

“A hell of a way to show it!” I snapped, ignoring his stutter on the word friend.

“What could I say?” he asked, with a raise of his eyebrow.

“You could’ve told the truth.”

“I did!”

“You’re a bloody liar, Kanda,” I said, looking straight into his navy blue eyes. Then winding up the window, I said, “Goodbye.”

Without looking back at him standing in the oncoming blizzard, I pressed my foot down hard on the accelerator and headed out of Noah's Innocence.


	11. Visibility Zero

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I just wanted to be away from Noah's Innocence; but more than that, I wanted to be as far away from Kanda as possible. Feeling as if I were returning to civilisation, the real world, where cell phones worked, radios got a signal, shops stayed open, and vampires didn’t chase you around graveyards in the middle of the night. I felt like punching the air with joy!   
> \--  
> “Don’t come any closer!” I screamed, trying and failing to maintain a defensive stance.
> 
> They circled me, zipping back and forth as if examining their prey. The third one raced forward, its eyes burning red and mouth drooling. Shrieking, it leapt for me, its claws skimming just inches from my face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is anyone still interested in this story? I hope so, it's so much fun to write and a lot of work to edit.

The engine of my little car groaned as I forced it up the narrow snow-covered roads and away from the town below. Fierce gusts of wind shook its very frame and the wipers worked overtime to clear the snow.

I’d cranked my heater up to full blast, but it did very little to take away the freezing chill. Even inside the car, wispy plumes of breath escaped from my mouth and nose and covered the windscreen in a misty film, making visibility almost zero.

Leaning forward, I peered out, desperate not to steer off the road and into some ditch. I knew that if I could just reach a main road, the chances were high that it would have been gritted with salt and I would be able to make my way home to Vatican City without incident.

Even if I had to drive all night, I was determined to get there. I hadn’t even stopped at the Noah's Ark Inn to collect my stuff; I would pay to have it forwarded to me at a later date.

I just wanted to be away from Noah's Innocence; but more than that, I wanted to be as far away from Kanda as possible. I didn’t care if I ever saw him again. I felt crushed inside at how he had treated me back at the station and how he’d lied about what had taken place up at the graveyard. I knew that he had seen that girl; I knew it!

Wiping at the inside of the windscreen with the back of my hand, I could just make out a sign fixed to the side of the road. As my car crawled towards it, my heart almost leapt with joy. The sign read:

* * *

You are leaving Noah's Innocence

Please drive carefully!

* * *

 

Feeling as if I were returning to civilisation, the real world, where cell phones worked, radios got a signal, shops stayed open, and vampires didn’t chase you around graveyards in the middle of the night. I felt like punching the air with joy! Taking one hand from the wheel, I switched on the radio and my heart sank as the sound of static hissed through the speakers.

But then, as my car inched towards the sign, I heard something faint,  a sound within the static and it sounded like music. Turning the dial on the radio, I lent forward and to my joy, I could hear the sweet voice of Adele singing ‘Someone like you’.

“C’mon,” I said aloud. “I want to hear you!”

Her voice was faint, almost like she was lost somewhere within the static, but with every inch my car took towards that sign, her voice became clearer. Turning the dial in the hope of picking up a clearer signal, I took my eyes off the road for what seemed just like a second.

But in that moment, I assume, I missed seeing the sheet of black-ice covering the road. The back end of my car skidded right, then left as I gripped the wheel and screamed, “No!”

The VWVortex spun out of my control and headed for a huge drift of snow. Thumping into the ancient stone wall that lined the road, the car tilted right, and for a moment I thought it was going to tip over onto its side.

Slamming my hands against the dashboard to steady myself, the car nose-dived into a ditch, its rear wheels lifting off the road. Leaning forward in my seat, my chest pressed against the steering wheel, the voice of Adele began to fade until the sound of static seemed almost deafening.

Pushing against the car door, I clambered free of the car and fell into the snow outside. At once, my nose, ears and hands began to sting with the cold. Shielding my eyes against the blizzard, I looked around, trying to get some bearings. The sign, telling me that I was so close to escaping Noah's Innocence, was behind me and it seemed to taunt me.

Turning my back to it, I peered in the direction that I had come, and some miles in the distance, I could just make out the twinkling lights of the town. Looming up into the night like a twisted finger, I could see the steeple of the church in the dark.

Cupping my hands, around my mouth, I blew into them. They were fast going numb. Turning to look at my car sticking up out of the ditch, I lent against the boot and tried to force the rear wheels back onto the road.

“Please!” I groaned. “I just wanna get out of this godforsaken place. Is that too much to ask?” I shouted into the dark.

The car rocked up and down like a seesaw, but however much I pulled, I couldn’t get the car out of the ditch. With each passing minute, the snow grew higher and higher around my shins.

Knowing that I had to make a decision as to what I was going to do, I considered my options.

I could stay in the car and hope that someone came by and helped me, but the chances of anyone being out on a night like this was remote. The roads were fast becoming impassable, so I knew there was little chance of being rescued by a passer-by.

I could stay in the car with the heaters running, but I doubted they could melt an ice cube, and I would more than likely freeze to death. I didn’t have any blankets or warm clothing in the boot, and the rate that the snow was coming down, my little car would be covered within a couple of hours. I didn’t fancy dying entombed in a 1980’s VWVortex, buried beneath a mountain of snow.

Then remembering my cellphone, I rummaged for it in my pocket. Pulling it out, I looked at the signal bar which continued to glow red. Holding the phone above my head, I tried to search for a signal.

“Please!” I hissed. “Just give me a break. I deserve one with everything that I’ve been through!”

But however much I turned and moved towards the border, the signal bar remained that constant, angry red.

Putting the phone away, I looked back at the town below me. I figured that if I crossed the fields, it could be no more than a couple of miles away. I could stick to the road, but it wasn’t as direct with all its twists and turns and would probably double the distance of my journey.

But however much my life depended on it, I really didn’t want to go back there. What was I going back to and how many days would I have spend there before the snow eased and I could get my car back onto the road? I really didn’t want to go back to that Inn, and now that I’d been banned from the police station, I had no reason to be there.

I didn’t know if I could face any of them again, I didn’t know if I could face Kanda again. But I couldn’t stay out on the road. Not only was I exposed to the freezing weather, I was a sitting target for vampires.

So taking my torch from the car, I pulled the collar of my jacket up and set off across the fields, back towards Noah's Innocence.

Bent forward at the waist to protect myself from the freezing wind and falling snow, I trudged across the fields. The snow was falling so hard and fast that when I glanced back at my car in the distance, I could hardly see its little red frame and my tracks had already been covered. Ahead and to the right, I could see what looked like a wooded area. So cutting diagonally across the field, I made my way towards it, hoping that the trees would offer me some shelter.

The snow whipped and howled all around me, and in the noise of the wind, I was sure that I could hear the far off sound of screaming. Looking in the direction of those cries, I thought I saw shadows flitting back and forth across the skyline. Turning around in the snow, trying to locate those sounds was disorientating and it wasn’t long before I had lost all sense of direction. Peering into the distance, I was sure that I could see a dark smudge on the horizon, and hoping that it was the wooded area, I set off towards it.

I hadn’t gone far when I noticed the dark smudge had changed and now looked like three dark shapes in the distance.

“What’s that?” I said, shielding my eyes with my hands, trying to workout what the shapes were. With every second they seemed to get closer and they were coming straight towards me.

As they got closer still, I thought that perhaps they were three people, but that couldn’t be right, they were travelling too fast, no one could move with such speed and agility in the heavy snow.

Then with my heart almost stopping, I realised that the shapes coming towards me **were** people. They were running towards me at an incredible speed, as if they were soaring just inches above the snow. Realising that I was in incredible danger, I ran as fast as I could, hoping that I was heading towards the shelter of the trees.

My progress was slow, hampered by the deepness of the snow, which was now level with my knees. Looking back, the three figures were now so close that I could hear the sound of the rushing wind their speed created, whipping up the snow beneath them and spraying it into the night.

“Shite! Please God, no!” I cried, staggering forward and losing my footing.

Panicked, I clawed myself back onto my feet. My whole body trembled,  not because of the cold, but in fear. My legs felt as if they were going to give way at any moment and I desperately needed to pee. Not sure in which direction I was headed, I stumbled on, tears running down my face, through sheer terror.

Sucking in mouthfuls of freezing cold air to try and calm myself, I turned around to see the three vampires racing towards me, their gleaming white teeth glistening like razors in the night. Slowing to a stop, I screamed. Within touching distance of me, one of them darted left and the other right, so as to surround me.

“Don’t come any closer!” I screamed, trying and failing to maintain a defensive stance.

They circled me, zipping back and forth as if examining their prey. The third one raced forward, its eyes burning red and mouth drooling. Shrieking, it leapt for me, its claws skimming just inches from my face.

I ducked, dropping into the snow. Glancing up, I watched as it raced past. My heart almost stopped. The vampire was wearing what appeared to be a ripped and dishevelled looking police uniform. Without having time to comprehend what I’d seen, the vampire corkscrewed around, landed and raced back towards me.

Knowing I had nowhere to run or hide, I guarded my face with my hands and prayed that my death would be quick. The sound of its screaming, coming out of the dark at me, I closed my eyes and prepared to flip the creature. Then there was another sound, almost deafening. It was like the loudest thunderclap I’d ever heard.

“What?” I shouted in shock, snapping open my eyes. I caught a fleeting glimpse of a winged creature soar across my eye line, snatching away the vampire who was just about to take hold of me.

Pulling myself out of the snow, I looked up to see what it was. But it moved with such speed and agility, it looked like nothing more than a fluttering blur of shadows. The vampire in the police uniform was yanked this way and that in the sky just above my head.

It tried to fight back against whatever it was that had hold of it. Shielding my eyes against the snow, I could see that whatever it was, appeared to be stripped to the waist. The creature’s skin was as pale as the snow that fell all around it. Its hair was navy blue, unlike the black wings that protruded from its back. But it moved too fast for me to really see it. Not knowing if this creature were my saviour or if it had its own plans for me, I turned and fled.

With my heart racing like a trip hammer, I ran until I was near exhaustion. Looking back over my shoulder, not wanting to lose sight of the other two vampires, I saw the one in the police uniform arch its back and throw its arms wide as it became consumed by the creature in the sky.

Then with an ear-splitting scream, one of the other vampires chased after me.

“Bugger, the fuck, off!” I screeched, stumbling backwards into the snow, landing on my arse and knocking the wind from me. Covering my ears with my hands, I looked past the approaching vampire and saw the shadowy creature rip out the throat of the vampire in the police uniform.

Blood sprayed into the night and spattered the snow around me in crimson streaks. Then my rescuer, if that’s what it was, soared away in a fluttering blur and tossed the second vampire, who was almost upon me, through the air like a rag doll. This one was female and from where I kneeled in the snow, I could see that she was wearing a floral-patterned dress. Her bright auburn hair fanned out in the wind.

Then to the right of me, I heard the gut wrenching sound of screaming as the third and final vampire took their chance and raced towards me. Turning, I tried to run away, but the creature was too quick. And by the time I‘d felt its hot breath against my neck, it had snatched hold of me with its talon-like hands and lept into a nearby tree.

Kicking out frantically, my stomach lurched as I watched the ground disappear beneath my feet at an incredible speed, as the vampire scrambled up the trunk of the tree with me clutched in its arms. Within seconds, I was looking down at the tops of the trees. Looking left and right, I could see that the vampire had its claws hooked into my jacket.

“Geo’ff me, you berk!” I roared. “Put me the fuck down!”

Glancing up into its face, it looked white and contorted as if in constant pain. Just like the others, its eyes burned red as if its brain was on fire in its misshapen skull. The vampire’s forehead was pronounced and its brow appeared to almost hang over its eyes like a ledge. Its nose looked more like a snout and its mouth was like an open wound, fleshy lips pulled back, revealing a bloody set of gums that were crammed full of razor-sharp teeth.

Dragging me higher into the tree, I screamed. Ahead I could see the flutter of white and black as the flying creature tore the female vampire in two, casting the remains of her body in opposite directions.

“Let! Me! Go!” I screamed, kicking the vampires legs in vain.

Hearing my screams, the winged creature flew towards us and again, the night was torn open by the sound of that thunderclap. Within an instance, it was upon us, its form shimmering so much as to make it impossible to truly see who or what it was.

As the shadowy form attacked the vampire who had hold of me, its claws dug deeper into my jacket and flesh. The pain was excruciating. Reaching into my pocket, my fingers brushed against the small bottle of holy water given to me at breakfast by the old woman.

Crying out in pain, I fumbled the cap off the top of the bottle. Reaching round, I poured some of the water onto the vampire’s claws. Almost at once its flesh began to bubble and blister. Tendrils of smoke started to rise from its white flesh.

Shrieking in agony, the vampire let go of me and I tumbled out of the tree and towards the ground. Over the sound of the wind whistling in my ears, I heard the vampire howl one last time as the winged creature tore it apart.

“Shite!” I cried looking down as the snow-covered fields raced towards me. Closing my eyes, and for the second time that night hoping my death would be quick and painless, I felt myself soaring upwards and away from the ground.

Opening one eye, I peered out and could see I was in the arms of the creature that had saved me from the vampires. My face was pressed against his naked chest, which felt as cold as the night air that rushed passed me. Glancing up so as to get a peek at its face, whatever it was arched its wings, so that it fell into shadow, masking its identity.

  
“Hold tight,” it whispered. Then that ear-shattering thunderclap came again and everything went black.


	12. Vampyrus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Opening my eyes, it took a moment for me to realize that I was lying on the bed back in my room at the Noah's Ark Inn. I didn’t know how long I’d been unconscious, and my shoulders felt raw. I remembered being rescued by that winged creature and I sat up. It was then that I noticed someone sitting in the shadows in the corner of the room.
> 
> Covering my mouth with my hands, I watched in disbelief and wonder as Kanda shook from head to foot, the metamorphoses complete.
> 
> “You’re trembling,” he smiled, bringing his face closer to mine.
> 
> “Am I?”
> 
> “Are you afraid?” he whispered, his lips hovering over mine.
> 
> “No,” I smiled at the reflection of my silver eyes in his hooded navy colored eyes. “But you should be.”
> 
> “And why’s that?” he asked.
> 
> “Because I’ve got a bottle of holy water and a crucifix in my pocket,” I whispered.
> 
> “They only work on vampires, I’m a bat,” he smiled, then taking me in his wings, he kissed me. Not any chaste kiss either, but a full on lip bruising french kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OMG!!!! SO I skipped an entire chapter and no one said anything!!!!!!! I will try to fix it but I'm still not used to this system yet, so no promises.

Opening my eyes, it took a moment for me to realize that I was lying on the bed back in my room at the Noah's Ark Inn. The lamp on the desk had been switched on and my room was bathed in a warm orange glow. 

I didn’t know how long I’d been unconscious, and my shoulders felt raw. Touching them, I remembered the vampire digging his claws into me. Then I remembered being rescued by that winged creature and I sat up. It was then that I noticed someone sitting in the shadows in the corner of the room.

“Who’s there?” 

I asked lowly, tilting my head invitingly I noticed my mouth was swollen and my throat felt sore from all the screaming I’d done earlier that night.

“It’s just me,” the figure scoffed, standing up and moving into the light.

Watching Kanda step from the shadows, I groaned, flopping back on the bed forceful enough to give myself a headache.

“What do you want?” 

I still felt betrayed by him for what had happened at the police station.

“I just stopped by to see that you hadn't committed suicide,” he scoffed, coming closer.

Rolling onto my side, to turn away from him, I snarled. 

“Well, now that you can see I’m fine, go away. I have nothing left to say to you.”

“I thought you were leaving town?” he whispered from next to my bed.

“It didn’t quite work out that way,” I said, my back still facing him. “And, how did you know I was here?”

“I drove past and saw the lamp on in your room, so I thought…” he started.

Rolling over to face him, I spit, “How did you get in here?”

“Your door was open,” he told me.

“So you just walked in? Well if you don’t mind,” I spit, “you can just walk out. Close the door behind you.”

“What’s wrong with you, Moyashi?” he asked, staring down at me.

“What’s wrong with me?” I hissed and sat up on my bed. “You lied back there at the station, when you could’ve got me out of trouble.”

“How?”

“You said that you didn’t see anything,” I started. “You claimed that you only saw me drive away in the police car, then you came running after me once I’d crashed the car.”

“That’s right,” he said, trying to hold my stare.

“You didn’t run anywhere that night,” I told him. “You must have been right on top of me when that car crashed, which means that you must have seen that vampire.”

Kanda shook his head in denial, hands moving to his hips unconsciously trying to make himself bigger.

“It was raining that night Kanda,” I reminded him. “There was mud and puddles everywhere. If you’d ran down that road like you claimed to have done, then the bottoms of your trousers would’ve been splashed with mud.”

Then looking down at the hems of his trousers, I added, “See, there’s not a fleck of mud on them.”

Looking down, then back at me, he frowned, “These are a different pair of trousers.”

“Liar,” I snapped. “They’re the same bloody trousers you had on last night up at the graveyard.”

“How could you possibly know that?” he asked me.

Pointing to his right thigh, I said, “Shrimp and parsley, that’s how I know!”

“What?” he asked, sounding baffled.

“Last night in the police car, I said I knew that you had an noodles for your dinner because you had dripped shrimp bits and parsley down the front of your tie and trousers,” I said evenly, whilst glaring up at him. “The stains are still there Kanda, but I can’t see any mud.”

Glancing down at the stain, then back at me, he said “You don’t miss a trick, do you Allen?”

Thinking for a moment, I said, “Perhaps I do.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, if you didn’t run down that lane, how did you get to me and the car so quickly?” I said. “That’s what I can’t figure out.”

Staring at me with his navy blue eyes, Kanda sighed.

“Allen, I can’t lie to you anymore.” 

Then taking off his jacket, he unbuttoned his shirt and let them both fall to the floor.

Holding up my hand in surprise, I said, “I’m flattered Kanda, but I’m not sure I want to know where this is going at the moment.”

Then he stared at me with such intensity, it felt as if he were looking into my very soul. 

“No, Allen. You don’t understand.”

“Understand what exactly?” I started, unable to take my eyes off his well-defined chest and flat stomach.

“This,” he said spinning around.

Shrinking back on my bed, I watched as Kanda’s shoulder blades rippled beneath his pale skin. The tissue and muscles on his back shifted and stretched as what looked like a series of black bones grew from his back. 

Kanda rocked forward as if in pain, the black-looking bones reaching up out of his ribcage and shoulders. A thin, silky membrane hung beneath the bones and I could see that he was growing a pair of wings. 

Actual wings!

They reminded me of the fruit bats my dad had shown me in picture books as a boy. Each wing seemed to have a long bony shoulder and arm that was about six feet in length. 

Beneath this arm hung the wing, which was a see-through, stretchy-looking membrane. At the end of each arm protruded a wrist and attached to these were three skeletal-looking fingers.

Covering my mouth with my hands, I watched in disbelief and wonder as Kanda shook from head to foot, the metamorphoses complete. His huge, black wings stretched out on either side of him. Turning around, his arms by his sides, Kanda stared at me in fear.

“Please don’t freak out,” he whispered.

“Whoa,” I breathed.

“Is that all you have to say?” he asked me in disbelief, and it was as he spoke that I noticed his two front incisors had grown into two long sharpened points.

“What do you want me to say? You just told me not to freak out.” I whispered in awe. 

Although by all accounts, I should’ve been terrified by the creature that stood before me, I wasn’t. Kanda looked like an angel, a dark angel. If it were possible, his eyes glowed even though they were darker than before, his skin looked as smooth and as white as marble, and his lips were a dark blood-red. His jet-black hair shone with navy blue highlights.

“How long have you been able to do that…that thing with the wings, exactly?” I said.

“Forever,” he said. There was a moment’s silence, neither us not knowing what to say next.

“How do I look?” he suddenly asked with a nervous grin, still unsure of what my reaction was going to be at seeing him like this.

“You look stunning,” I breathed.

“Stunning?” he grinned. “Shouldn’t that be ‘handsome’?”’

“No, you look like you deserve more than that,” I told him, a warm sensation flowing over me. “It was you?”

“What was?”

“It was you who saved me from those vampires tonight?” I asked.

“Yes, it was.”

Curious as to what that made him, I said, “So are you like them? A vampire, I mean?”

Coming towards me, Kanda sat on the edge of my bed, and I couldn’t help but notice how his wings seemed to tremor as he moved. Looking into my eyes, he said, “Some would call me a vampire, but I’m a Vampyrus.”

“A Vampyrus?” I asked, confused.

“The Vampyrus are what humans would commonly call Desmodus Rotundas.”

“Vampire bats?” I gasped.

 

“Yes, exactly that.”

Trying to understand what he was telling me, I said, “So where do you live, hang out? Where do you come from?”

“I come from The Hollows,” he said, and his voice sounded distant as if he were picturing it in his mind. “The Hollows are the caves and the caverns beneath us.’’

“So you live underground then?” I said, confused. “So like there’s a whole race of your people living down there?”

“There always has been,” he explained. “Even before humans, the Vampyrus have lived in the holes, the tunnels, and the caverns that exist beneath the Earth.”

“So why are you masquerading as a police officer up here?” I asked him, and if it wasn’t for the fact that I had an actual winged man sitting at the foot of my bed, I wouldn’t have believed a word of what I was being told.

“We’ve come to hunt down one of our own,” he told me, and his eyes had grown dark, their spark faded.

“Why? What has this Vampyrus done?”

“Allen,” he said, “for hundreds of years our race has been travelling up to the surface. Some of us have managed to secretly work our way into the highest levels and positions in your society. But all of us, up until now, have respected your rules, your laws and your world.”

“But there is one who has broken those rules, and instead of returning to The Hollows to satisfy their hunger, they’ve given into their desires and taken human blood. By doing this, they created a mutant breed, half-human and half-Vampyrus, they are what your people calls vampires. They are the undead.”

“Who is this Vampyrus?” I asked him.

“We don’t know,” Kanda confessed. “But we have managed to track him down to Noah’s Innocence. It is somewhere here that he hides.”

“But he can’t be that hard to find,” I said. “I mean, you must be able to recognise one of your own when you see them.”

“But how?” he asked. “Didn’t you believe me to be human? Could you tell by looking at me that I was not one of you?”

Shaking my head, I said, “Well no, I guess.”

“Then you can see the challenge that faces us,” he said. “But the longer it takes us to find him, the more he will feed and the more vampires will be created, until one day your world will be infested with them.”

“Why doesn’t he just stop?” I asked. “If he can see the damage he is causing, why doesn’t he go back underground until his hunger passes?”

“Once tasted, human blood becomes an unbreakable addiction,” he told me. “And that need, desire, never goes away. I’ve heard it described as being like a fire in your soul that can’t be put out.”

“So he can’t be cured of this craving?”

“There have been others throughout history that have come and fed,” he said just above a whisper.

“And they were cured?” I asked.

“Yes.”

“How?”

“Like me, Vampyrus were sent to hunt them down and destroy them,” he told me, his eyes turning dark.

“So you’re going to kill him. Are you not like a regular vampire, what I mean is, you can go out in the light?” I asked him.

“Our natural habitat is darkness, but some of us can tolerate daylight,” he explained. “As for me, I’m not a great lover of the sun. I can put up with it for a few hours before my skin starts to itch and blister. Others last only minutes, before their skin starts to smoke.”

“So are you like those other vampires?” I asked him, remembering how he had reacted to my cut wrist and how I’d seen him sniff the blood stains on the sweatshirt. “What I’m trying to say is, do you need blood, human blood to survive?”

“It depends,” he said.

“On what?” I asked, letting go of his hand.

Sensing my concern, Kanda whispered comfortingly. 

“You don’t need to be scared of me. Very much like the sun, it’s different for each of the Vampyrus. Some of us hunger for human blood as soon as we come above ground, some of us can last hours, days or weeks without feeling the hunger, but when it comes, we have to go back below until the desire for blood fades. Then we can come back again.”

“So what about you?” I asked him. “How long can you last, before your hunger becomes too much?”

“About six weeks,” he said.

“So how long before you have to go back?”

“About a week,” he smiled, “so you’re safe for the moment. I felt it the other day when you cut your wrist. That’s why I didn’t want to get too close to you.”

“I figured, I saw you sniffing the bloodstains that I’d left on your sweatshirt,” I confessed.

Turning away with an embarrassed look upon his face, he said, “I couldn’t help myself. The smell of your blood was... intoxicating.”

Wanting to know more about him and his life below ground, I asked, “So how do you come above ground, how do you get here?”

“We come up via wells that humans have dug, potholes and drains. Luckily for us. you don’t yet have the ability to reach the thousands of miles and network of tunnels and caves beneath your feet. But mostly, we burrow our own way out and protect it with a trap door, which we lock, until we’re ready to go back, then we fill it in again.”

Sitting quietly for a moment, trying to absorb everything he had told me, I looked at him and said, “Who’s we?”

“What do you mean?” he asked, looking as if he had slipped up in someway.

“You said, ‘We lock it.’ Who’s we?” I asked again.

Looking me straight in the eyes, he smiled, “Komui, Reever and Winters.”

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. “So you’re telling me that Sergeant Komui, Chief Inspector Winters, and that wanker-Reever are all like you, vampire bats?”

Laughing, Kanda said, “I know it’s hard to believe but they’re not really all that bad.”

“They seemed pretty bad today,” I reminded him.

“Believe it or not, they were just trying to protect you,” he told me.

“Protect me!” I scoffed. “They had a funny way of showing it.”

“We knew that once you’d killed that vampire last night, they might come after you,” he said, and this time he took my hand in his. “We were sending you away from Noah’s Innocence for your own safety; we knew that we had to get you away from here.’”

“I don’t need your protection,” I said. “I can look after myself.”

“And what about tonight?” he reminded me. “If I hadn’t felt your presence, you would be dead by now or one of them.”

Sitting silently for a moment, I looked at him and said, “Well, consider me dead. I’m staying, I can’t go back now.”

 

“That’s your choice, Allen. But what lies ahead will be dangerous. Not only for you for but my people as well,” he warned me. 

Then reaching out and brushing a wisp of hair from my face, he said, “You know you don’t have to stay, I could get you out of here if you really wanted me to.”

Cupping my hand around his, I smiled, “You clearly need me.”

“How do you work that out?”

“Like I said, the lot of you couldn’t solve a game of Cluedo,” and I smiled.

Then staring at me as if he was about to say something, he suddenly let go of my hand and stood up.

“What were you going to say?” I asked him, a nervous feeling passing through me.

“It doesn’t matter,” he said, turning his back towards me, his wings making a soft whispering sound.

Standing, I went to him. I wanted to reach out and touch his shoulder, but I didn’t know if I should. To do so, I would’ve had to touch his wings.

“It does matter,” I said.

Turning around, Kanda moved closer, his naked chest inches from me. “I was wondering if there was another reason why you might want to stay?”

Knowing exactly what he meant, I lied, “I don’t know what you mean,” and leant in towards him.

“I was hoping…” he said, but didn’t finish.

“Hoping what?” I pushed.

“You’re trembling,” he smiled, bringing his face closer to mine.

“Am I?”

“Are you afraid?” he whispered, his lips hovering over mine.

“No,” I smiled at the reflection of my silver eyes in his hooded navy colored eyes. “But you should be.”

“And why’s that?” he asked.

“Because I’ve got a bottle of holy water and a crucifix in my pocket,” I whispered.

“They only work on vampires, I’m a bat,” he smiled, then taking me in his wings, he kissed me. Not any chaste kiss either, but a full on lip bruising french kiss.


	13. Mana And Neah

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Those other detectives might have missed things,” I told him. “They might not have seen all of the clues.” 
> 
> “What clues?” he asked. “There were no clues.” 
> 
> "There are always clues, God is in the details."
> 
> “God is in the detail,” he repeated, then added, “Did I tell you that?”
> 
> “No, Mana did,” I said and hugged him. “And I promise I will find him for you.”
> 
> But my father never saw me become a police officer. Neah died of pancreatic cancer two months before my passing out parade at training school. And that hurt more than everything, it felt as if my heart had been ripped out of my chest. 
> 
> But I intended to keep my promise to him, however long it took me, I would find out what happened to Mana. He was out there somewhere, I knew he was and my dream only reminded me of that.
> 
> Washing away my tears, I left the bathroom. I had to be at the station within two hours. How well Komui, Reever, and Winters would take my return I didn’t know. I would just have to put my trust in Kanda.
> 
> //Yu Kanda is not to be trusted, Allen.//
> 
> Folding the note in half, I tucked it into my pocket and headed downstairs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I practiced a little with perspective shifting, did I do it any justice?

Kanda left me just before dawn. As I had lain on his sculpted chest, swaddled in his wings, I’d asked him where it was that he lived.

He explained that he slept during the day, along with the other Vampyrus, Komui and Reever, in the cells at the station.

He told me that it was close to their hatch,  should they need to go back beneath ground in a hurry. When I asked about Chief Inspector Winters, he said that Winters spent most of his time below ground, but didn’t explain why.

I took that for the hint it was, and made a mental note to be cautious around Winters from here on out.

I’d asked where this hatch to The Hollows was and Kanda reminded me of the padlocked grate in the corridor that led to the small cellblock back at the station.

I was surprised by this for a moment, not about its location,  but by its ordinariness. It was nondescript, black metal, with a big rusty-looking padlock. Then I realised that it would have had to have been nondescript if they wanted to stay hidden.

When we got through most of my immediate questions, Kanda rolled onto his side, sliding me off his chest but keeping me wrapped in his wings, and grabbed my black hand, and stroked his thumb down the pentagram on my face.

He seemed to want to say something about it but chose to tip me from my side to my back instead.

Leaving me feeling sleepy and the most at peace that I’d felt since arriving in Noah’s Innocence, Kanda told me to meet him at the police station at seven that night.

“But I was just banned?” I said, feeling half asleep.

“I’ll speak to the others,” he assured me.

Then taking my face in his hands, he kissed me. His lips were pouty and soft, and they lingered over mine. Kissing him back, I could feel his fangs, but in a strange way it didn’t seem unnatural.

When he kissed me, I felt bigger than myself. The sensation was so intense, I wanted Kanda to consume me. To feel those soft wings around me, I felt protected – safe.

Enclosed in them, my skin against his, I felt as if everything outside of us didn’t exist. Like we were inclosed inside a barrier and nothing could touch us. It was that moment that mattered, nothing else.

Not wanting him to leave me, I clung to his shoulders. “Stay,” I whispered, my eyes too heavy to open.

Brushing his lips over mine, he said, “I can’t Allen, I need to get back. You have to let me go.”

Releasing him from my grasp, I opened my eyes slowly to watch as he rolled back his shoulders and his wings unwrapped from around my person, and retracted back between his shoulder blades.

Putting his police shirt back on and buttoning it up the front, it seemed hard to believe what he kept hidden beneath it. Back in his uniform, he looked like any regular cop. Smirking at me, Kanda flipped his hair over his shoulder and headed towards the door.

“See you tonight, _Moyashi_ ,” he said, and then he was gone, closing the door behind him.

Rolling onto my back and pulling the covers over me, I drifted into sleep imagining those soft but powerful wings all around me, brushing against my skin and making me feel safe.

* * *

 

I found myself running along the shore of the cove. I was out of breath. The sea crashed against the sand in thick, black, oily waves. Smashing against the rocks, giant sheets of freezing cold water sprayed into the night.

Ahead there were two huge cliffs, stretching up into the sky like deformed monsters. Behind me there was a noise and it sounded like a frantic heartbeat. Gasping for breath, I could see a cloud. It was dark and moved across the night sky at a great speed. The sound of the racing heartbeat came from it.

Turning, I sprinted away, clambering over the rocks that jutted from the sand like broken gravestones. Seaweed covered them like dark green veins.

I lost my footing and slipped, falling face-first into the sand. Waves rushed at me, soaking my clothes, face and hair.

The heartbeat sound grew louder. Looking back over my shoulder, I could see the cloud was getting nearer, as if it were following me.

Dragging myself to my feet, I ran on, a stitch burning in my side like a stab wound. Giant waves rushed me again, as if wanting to drag me under.

Reaching a huge slick-looking rock, I climbed on top. Looking into the distance, I could see a cave set between the two cliffs ahead of me.

The sound of the heartbeat was louder, almost deafening now. Glancing back again, I screamed. The cloud was almost above me, and I could see that it wasn’t a cloud at all, but a thousand winged creatures racing towards me. The heartbeat was the sound of their wings beating together as one.

Scrambling down the other side of the rock, I raced as fast and as hard as I could towards the cave. Sand kicked up from beneath my trainers, and my jeans felt heavy and wet against my legs, making any movement sluggish.

I pushed on, my lungs burning inside me. Looking back, I could see thousands of vampire bats swooping towards me. But they weren’t normal vampire bats, they were men and women with black wings that looked as if they were made of stretched leather. They were so close that I could see their bright eyes, and the saliva dripping from their razor-sharp teeth.

Turning my back on the Vampyrus, I rushed towards the mouth of the cave. My heart felt like it was going to explode, but I pushed myself harder, faster!

The safety of the cave was within touching distance, but as I reached it, I could see that it had been sealed over with a metal grate. I yanked on it, but it was locked fast and wouldn’t open.

“Please!” I begged. “Please let me in!”

Peering over my shoulder, eyes bulging in fear, I could see the Vampyrus racing towards me, soaring just inches above the sand. Turning to face the grate, I pulled on it with what little strength I had left.

“Please open!” I screamed.

Sand and seawater sprayed up all around me under the force of the beating wings of the vampire bats that were now within touching distance of me. Pulling on the grate one last time, it opened and I stumbled through it and into the waiting arms of my…

* * *

 

“…Mana!” Allen yelled, bolting upright in his bed. Heart racing in his chest, Allen felt breathless. A thin layer of sweat covered his brow and his white hair clung to his face in damp streaks.

Throwing back the covers, Allen swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood up. They felt shaky and unstable. Going to the bathroom, he poured himself a glass of water from the tap and drank it down without stopping until the glass was empty.

The dream about Mana had upset him, and as Allen looked in the mirror above the bathroom sink, he brushed away the tears that were rolling down his cheeks.

_‘I hadn’t dreamt of him for a while now and if at all possible I tried not to think about him. It wasn’t that I hated him, it was the opposite, I loved him deeply. But to be reminded of him was agony.’_

The last time I’d seen Mana had been as he’d left the house to go and buy me a birthday cake for my thirteenth birthday party, five years ago. Wearing his only fancy suit, his brown hair swishing about in a ponytail on his shoulder, Mana had waved goodbye to me as he passed through the front garden gate.

“See you later, Red,” he had smiled.

“In a while, clown,” I smiled back and then added, “I love you!”

Blowing me a kiss, he winked and said, “I love you more Red.” Then he was gone, never to be seen again. By ten o’clock that night, after my father, Neah, had made several frantic phone calls to friends and family, he called the police.

At first they treated Mana’s sudden disappearance as a missing person’s inquiry, but the longer he stayed away, the more suspicion fell upon Neah. Mana was a cop after all, and they looked after their own.

Neah was taken in for questioning and they kept him there for nearly three days. While he was away, police officers in white suits came to the house and I watched them quietly as they examined every inch of our home.

Police officers in black boiler suits turned over the back garden, pulled open the drains, and confiscated our trash. But they found nothing.

Neah returned home, looking tired and drawn, white whiskers protruding from his chin. With my arm around him, he sat and bit into his hands while he sobbed, and I will never forget that.

Apart from the disappearance of his partner, he hated being under suspicion of harming him in any way. Neah had been devoted to Mana and as far as I can recall, they had always been close. But more than that, I knew he was hurt by how the police had been so quick to doubt him.

For years he had worked alongside them, helping to shed light on the murder victims that so often ended up in his lab, he had given up on his life of crime for Mana. He had changed for Mana, and only Mana.

It was after this that my father was never quite the same. Neah was often quiet and he seemed to have lost his appetite and passion for his work. Sure, he still talked about his cases when I asked him, but I could feel that his passion for it had gone.

 

 

One day as we sat and watched the T.V. together, I looked up at his tired-looking face and said, “You know how you say I can see things?”

“Your gift,” he half-smiled. “What about it?”

“Well it would be a shame if I didn’t ever put it to some good use, wouldn’t you say?” I asked him.

“It sure would,” he said. “What are you planning on doing with it?” “

I’m going to be a cop,” I told him, and I’d never been more serious about anything in my life.

“A cop. Just like your Mana…was,” he said, raising an eyebrow. “He would’ve been proud of you. Why do you want to be a cop?”

“Because when I do, I’m going to reopen Mana’s case and I’m gonna find him for you,” I told him.

For a moment or two, my father looked as if he didn’t know what to say. At first he looked kind of angry and then his face softened and he just looked sad.

“That’s a wonderful idea, Allen, but if all those detectives haven’t been able to find him after, what’s it been now?”

“Eleven months and six days,” I said.

“How do imagine that you will be able to find him?” he asked. He wasn’t belittling me, he was trying hard not to raise my hopes, and his own, I think.

“Those other detectives might have missed things,” I told him. “They might not have seen all of the clues.”

“What clues?” he asked. “There were no clues.”

Sitting next to him on the sofa, I said, “There are _always_ clues, _you_ told me that.”

“I know, but this is different-” he started.

Cutting over him, I said, “I know that Mana went missing before he even reached the end of our street,” I told him.

Pulling away so he could look at me, he said, “Oh, come now Allen, how could you possibly know that?”

Looking him straight in the eyes, I said, “Mana left the house in one of his summer shirts that day.”

“So?”

“Well I remember that day as clearly as if it were yesterday,” I told him. “Within a minute or so of him leaving the house, the heavens opened and there was a terrible storm. It lasted a good hour or so. I hadn’t seen such heavy rain for a long time. Then there was this really loud thunderclap followed by lightning. It was so loud that I was worried for Mana because I knew how _weird_ he got during thunderstorms.”

“So knowing that he had only been gone a minute or so and couldn’t have even got to the end of the street, I guessed he would’ve come running back to the house. You know, to either get changed into something waterproof or wait for the storm to pass. But he didn’t come back. And taking into account how fussy Mana was about keeping his hair nice, the least I would’ve expected him to do, was to come back for a hat. But he didn’t. Mana would’ve never stayed out in that thunderstorm, he would have come back home,” I said, looking at him.

Staring back at me, with a sudden look of realisation on his face, he said to me, ”My god Allen, you’re right. So whatever happened to Mana, happened before that storm started?”

“Exactly,” I said. “That’s how I know he went missing on our very street, just yards from our front door.”

“But what could’ve happened, where could he have gone in such a short space of time?” he asked.

“That’s what I plan to find out,” I insisted. “When I become a cop, I’m going to check out his case and read all the statements that were taken from the neighbours in our street. Then when I’ve read them, I’m going to go visit the neighbours and re-interview them. I know I will see something, some small piece of detail or inconsistencies, that those other cops didn’t see. _God is in the details._ ”

“ _God is in the detail_ ,” he repeated, then added, “Did I tell you that?”

“No, Mana did,” I said and hugged him. “And I promise I will find him for you. So you two can go hunting again some day.”

But my father never saw me become a police officer. Neah died of pancreatic cancer two months before my passing out parade at training school. And that hurt more than everything, it felt as if my heart had been ripped out of my chest.

But I intended to keep my promise to him, however long it took me, I would find out what happened to my Mana. He was out there somewhere, I knew he was and my dream only reminded me of that.

Washing away my tears, I left the bathroom. I had to be at the station within two hours. How well Komui, Reever, and Winters would take my return I didn’t know. I would just have to put my trust in Kanda.

Remembering that my car still lay in the ditch up on the road, I went to the window to see if the snow had stopped. It had, but it lay in thick drifts along the road and fields that stretched out in front of the Inn.

Leaving my police uniform hanging off the back of my chair, not knowing whether to wear it or not after being kicked off the team, I wrapped up warm, in a black sweatshirt, jeans, and combat boots.

Hitching on my coat, I left my room and immediately noticed the envelope tacked to my door. Taking it down, I opened it and pulled out the folded piece of paper from inside. It was written by the same hand as before.

* * *

_Yu Kanda is not to be trusted, Allen._

* * *

  
Folding the note in half, I tucked it into my pocket and headed downstairs.


	14. Found Veteran

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What I'd seen last night was the stuff of horror movies, fairy tales, and bedtime stories. But I knew it was all real. I had been part of it; I had become part of it. I had become a character in one of the stories Mana would tell me at bedtime. 
> 
> ...just recalling that mutilated man lying in the snow, made me feel things, I thought I’d long forgotten how to feel. Sick things that Mana disapproved of; things that only Neah understood.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The reference material left out a great many details that are furthered in the next two chapters, but if I include all of them them i lose a few points of suspense.
> 
> I'm sorry but his chapter has to be this short.

I reached the bottom of the stairs, and as I passed the dining area, I heard raised voices coming from the small office behind the bar. Stepping into the shadows of the door, I tried to listen to what was being said. The voices were that of Hevlaska and her brother, Jerry, arguing.

"I've had enough, Jerry," the sickly woman croaked. "I can't take it anymore."

"Hevlaska! I've already told you, I can handle it, okay?" Jerry snapped.

"We need to leave here." she protested, almost seeming to plead with him.

"How many ways have I got to tell you sis? I've got everything under control!" Jerry shouted.

"But what if…  they come for us?" she cried, and she sounded frightened. "What if  _ we're  _ next?"

"They won't," he said. "We're safe here."

"There are only s-s-s-so many c-c-c-cloves of garlic I c-c-c-can put up. Only s-s-s-so many c-c-c-rucifixes and b-b-b-bottles of holy water I c-c-c-can sell before -" she stuttered.

"Before what, sis?" he cut over her in an exasperated fit.

"Before there aren't any more people left in this town to protect-" she hissed, confidence refound, but again he shouted her down.

"I'm done talking about this with you!" he barked. "I know what I'm doing."

Without warning, the office door flew open, and he stormed from around the bar, heading straight towards me. 

Slinking back into the shadows, I made myself as small as possible. He passed within a few inches of me. He was so close, I could smell the seasoning clinging to his pores.

Once I was certain he'd gone, I crept from my hiding place and headed towards the door. Pulling it open, I heard Hevlaska’s voice behind me. "Don't go forgetting this," she said, throwing me another bottle of holy water.

Snatching it out of the air, I got the sense she was aware that I'd been eavesdropping, I said, "Thank you."

"You might need it," she said, without smiling.

Turning back towards the door, I heard her say, "If you had half the sense I think you have, you would leave this town and never come back."

Without looking at her, I pushed open the door and sneaked out into the snow, with the seemingly frail woman's warning ringing in my ears. She was right, I should leave, run and keep running and never look back. But I couldn't and that reason was simple.

 

_Kanda_.

 

Everything he had told me last night had turned my world on its head. Everything that I had learnt, everything I thought I knew, was now gone. It was like I was learning from scratch. What I'd seen last night was the stuff of horror movies, fairy tales, and bedtime stories. 

But I knew it was all real. I had been part of it; I had  _ become _ part of it. I had become a character in one of the stories Mana would tell me at bedtime. 

Kanda, my coworker, was an anthropomorphous vampire bat or a Vampyrus as he preferred . But was there really a difference? There was so much more that I needed to know about him and his people. But wasn't that what had hooked me, the fact that he was a mystery?

When I'd been with Kanda the night before, as he revealed his true self to me and told me about his world, it was like he had me under a spell and I kind of just accepted everything he had told me. But now that I was alone and he was away from me, that spell had been broken, a little at least.

Trudging through the snow, hundreds of questions now spiralled through my mind and I didn't have the answers.  _ Was Kanda immortal? If not, did he age like a human? Was I safe with him? Could he be trusted with my safety? _ Then the note, which had been left for me, came to the forefront of my mind.  _ Could I trust Kanda Yu? _

Not knowing the answers to any of these questions, I struggled on towards the town. The pale winter sun was setting, and wanting to be at the police station before nightfall, I quickened my pace. 

I'd walked a mile or so, when in the distance, I could see something black running towards me in the snow. Stopping, I crouched low, immediately on guard. 

With my heart racing, I slid to my right and burrowed into a nearby hedgerow. Whatever was racing towards me, it was panting as if exhausted and out of breath. 

With my curiosity getting the better of me, I peeked from my hiding place and almost gasped in relief when I realised what it was coming towards me. Crawling from the snow-laden bush, I stood up and called out to him.

"Here boy! Come here!"

Seeing me, the Labrador came bounding forwards, its huge pink tongue lolling from the corner of its mouth. Recognising it as belonging to the old man I'd spoken with the day before outside the police station, I took the dog by the collar and patted him. The dog whined and pulled away from me.

"What's up, boy?" I asked it.

Again it whined and pulled in the direction that it had appeared from. Then pulling free of me, it ran back down the road. I chased after it with an increasing dread, taking each step as carefully as I could, not wanting to slip and break an arm, or worse, a leg. I didn't fancy lying out in the snow with a broken leg as night started to fall. I thought of those vampires again, and my skin crawled.

Catching up with the dog by a gate in the wall, it stood and barked at me. As I neared it, the dog bounded off again, as if it wanted me to follow. So I did. Making my way across the field, I could see the dog had stopped by someone lying stretched out in the snow. 

As I drew near, I could see the Labrador prodding it with its snout. He looked back at me and whined.

Approaching the dog, I could see that it was his owner lying face up in the snow. At first, I thought that perhaps the old man had lost his footing while out walking and had collapsed. But as I drew closer, I could see that the snow around him was stained crimson. 

Following the bloody splash marks, I made my way towards the dead man. I could see tracks around the body, and I was careful not to destroy them. 

Placing my hands over my nose and mouth, I looked down at the mutilated body. Straightaway, I could see that this attack had been far more frenzied than the attack on the Hearst boy. That had been bad enough, but this was something else. At least the boy had been left with his face.

The old man lay spread-eagle in the snow. Most of his face and neck had been ripped off. I could see the sinews and muscles that his face had once been attached to. His eye sockets were empty, just two black holes looking back at me. The man's teeth were still intact, but without any lips, he looked as if he were grinning. 

His jacket and shirt had been slashed in two, revealing his torn open chest cavity. Several of his ribs had been broken and they stuck out of his chest like white-coloured fingers. His lungs had been half eaten and what was left looked like a pile of pink blancmange. 

The dog looked at me and whimpered. Reaching out for it, the dog licked what was left of his owner's face, then ran off into the distance. Probably disgusted by the sensations of his owners inner tissues.

Kneeling down, I ran the tips of my fingers over the corpse, my eyes flitting back and forth, unconsciously taking in every minute detail. I dabbed at the blood around the main wound, then the blood further out around the edges, and then blood sprayed over the snow. I got up and paced around the man laid before me, still taking care to preserve the tracks around him. 

Looking left and right, up and down, noting every little thing I could see, almost without knowing that I was doing it. Within seconds, I knew how long ago the killing had taken place, four people had taken part, the same three as before, but this time there had been someone new. And the tracks they had left were different, somehow odd. But it wasn't just that. 

There was something missing. With the light fading fast, I set off back across the field and towards town.

Pushing open the door to the police station, I rushed in. Stomping the snow from my boots and brushing it from my hair and shoulders, I looked up to see Sergeant Komui and Constable Reever standing in the office, on the other side of the counter.

"Yu told us you would come back," Reever said. "He also confessed that you know about...us."

"I don't have time for that now..." I started, still out of breath from my hike across the fields to the station.

"He hasn't done you a favour revealing himself to you," Komui said, coming towards me, in that lopsided way of his. "In fact, he's put you in even greater danger."

"I'll worry about that later," I said, trying to catch my breath. "I've found another one."

"Another what?" Reever said, coming closer.

"Victim," I wheezed. "This one's bad though. It's not like before."

"How?" Komui asked, his face looking worn and serious.

"They took his face. I've never seen anything like it. The attack was frenzied, savage," I said, and just recalling that mutilated man lying in the snow, made me feel things, I thought I’d long forgotten how to feel. 

Sick things that Mana disapproved of; things that only Neah understood. I felt my lips pull into a wide grin, at the arousal swirling through my groin. 

Suddenly I was thrust into a chair, and Komui demanded I calm down and catch my breath. Reever handed me a cup of water, staring at me with wide eyes, and I noted that this was the first kind thing he had done for me since taking up my post in Noah's Innocence.

Once I'd caught my breath and calmed down, I looked at them and said, "There were four of them. They left tracks in the snow. I could have only just missed them."

"By how long?" Reever asked sceptical.

"Five minutes," I said, looking at him. Again he rolled his eyes as if dismissing what I'd just said. 

"Look, blood behaves like many other salty solutions and freezes at between minus two and minus three degrees Celsius," I explained, not wanting to sound as if I were patronising him. 

"Blood starts to coagulate after less than ten minutes outside of the body, although if you had a shallow pool of blood, it would start to congeal more rapidly around the edges. Temperature also plays a big part, the warmer it is, the slower the coagulation; the colder it is, the faster the coagulation."

Reever and Komui looked at me blankly.

"It's freezing out there, right?" I said, exasperated. "So if we know that blood clots in less than ten minutes, but more quickly in the cold, the blood on that man was still tacky. My guess is that he couldn't have been murdered more than five minutes before I found his body."

"Where did you learn all this shit?" Reever scoffed disgusted.

"It's not -" I started.

"What else did you see?" Komui asked me, glancing at Reever as if to tell him to be quiet.

"Like I said, they left footprints, four individual sets. But there was something wrong with one of them, I think they had an injury but I can't be sure," I told them.

"Could you see where the tracks led to and from? If we're quick enough, we might be able to track them," Reever said, pulling on his jacket.

"No, it was like before," I mumbled, talking into my grip. "There were only tracks around the body, so they must've flown in and out of the crime scene."

"Vampires!" Komui seethed.

Then looking at the both of them, I said confused, "Who said anything about vampires?"

"What you talking about?" Reever said, fixing his utility belt around his waist.

"That man wasn't killed by vampires," I stated calmly.

"Who then?" Komui snapped, desperate to find out what I knew.

"Vampyrus," I said. "That man was murdered by bats."

"Ridiculous," Reever scoffed. But I noticed the look of concern that flashed between him and his sergeant.

"How can you be certain?" Komui asked, and I detected a tremor in his voice.

"Like I told you, that man was murdered not long before I discovered him," I started to explain.

"So?" Reever said.

Standing and slapping the palms of my hands against my brow in frustration, I said, "My god, you just don't see it do you?"

"See what?" Komui shouted, sounding pissed at me all over again.

"It was still daylight when the killing took place!" I almost screamed at them. "Vampires can't live in the light, but Vampyrus can. But not only that, vampires can't fly!"

"But there was only meant to be the one!" Reever squeaked, looking at Komui fightened. "We were here to track just the one!"

Sergeant Komui looked at Reever and seemed to be taking in what I'd just said. He was quiet and thoughtful for a moment, then said, 

"If the boy is right and we have more than one Vampyrus addicted to the blood of humans, then we've got problems."

"Problems?" Reever roared. "If we don't find them, we could have an epidemic!"

"The matter is far worse than I first thought," Komui said, sucking on his steaming oversized mug. "Where did you find this body?"

"Do you have a map?" I asked.

Without saying anything, Reever pulled one from a desk drawer and spread it out flat.

Looking at the map, I got my bearings, then tracing my finger across it; I stopped at a field about a mile and half from the Noah's Ark Inn. "There," I said. "That's where the body is."

Pulling on his jacket and taking some large flashlights, Komui and Reever made for the police station door.

"Hang on!" I said to them.

"For what?" Reever asked, looking back at me.

"Where's Kanda?"

Glancing at one another, Komui turned to look at me and said, "He's gone under."

"Under where?" I asked slowly, my heart beginning to race.

"Home." Komui said, sloping back towards me.

"Home?" I asked, realising that they were talking about The Hollows. "But why?"

"When Sokaro discovered that he had told you everything," Komui explained, "he sent Kanda back below ground."

"But he saved my life," I said.

"He broke the rules," Reever cut in.

"What rules?" I snapped. "That he shouldn't have helped me, saved me?"

"He shouldn't have told you about us," Komui said. "He had no right."

"But he did what he thought was right," I said, trying to defend him.

Then coming towards me, his eyes fixed on mine and his voice low, Reever said, "Don't be fooled to think that Kanda Yu loves you, Allen."

"What's that supposed to mean?" I asked staring back, trying not to let the hurt I was feeling show.

"He saved your life to ease his guilty conscience," he said, and frowned.

"What's he got to feel guilty about?" I asked, now feeling confused.

Before Reever had a chance to reply, Komui barked, "Enough Wenham! Enough, already!"

Slinking away from me as if he'd been bitten, Reever went back to the door where Komui was waiting for him and stared at Komui’s feet. 

"Let's go and sort this mess out, Reever." 

Komui sighed. Reever perked up immediately, like an obedient dog.

"What about me?" I asked as they went to leave.

"What about you?" Komui asked.

"Aren't I coming with you?"

"No," Komui said. "You'll only slow us down."

"I can lead you straight to the body."

"You don't really think we're going to walk in this weather do you?" Reever said, then gave me a knowing wink.

God, I hated that guy. "But what am I meant to do here, all on my own?"

"Turn off all the lights and lock all the windows and doors," Reever said, as they stepped out into the night. 

Racing around the counter, I yanked open the door, but the street was deserted, they'd already gone. Then in the distance, I heard what sounded like two thunderclaps in the distance.


End file.
